


Sing For the Moment

by AAJ Edward (FullmetalFlameElric)



Category: Glee
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Bad Boy Kurt, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Homophobia, It's going to hurt, Love Triangles, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Sci-Fi, Supernatural Elements, Unrequited Love, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalFlameElric/pseuds/AAJ%20Edward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They called it a miracle drug. A simple pill that was supposed to suppress all violent tendencies in the human psyche. The test sample was small, six teenagers unaware as they went for behavioral counseling. The results? Too shocking to be told...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 0: The Program

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I've started to move this over from my old FF.net account. I want to finish this story and between working on the next chapter and posting it, I will be updating the chapters and posting them one by one up here. So yeah... sorry about the wait to those that have found it here from the original spot!
> 
> [Story poster](http://my-lord-megatron.tumblr.com/post/15419294218/beerandcupcake-sing-for-the-moment-by-aaj) done for the original fic, by MNHummel. Congrats, you've always followed a link to my tumblr. I'm so sorry...

Sing For The Moment

Prologue

The Program

Kurt Hummel has always been different. Whether it was his voice, his hair, his slightly more feminene features, his spot on fashion sense, his harsh tongue and sharp wit, he has always stuck out. So it was no shock when he finally came out as gay. The school he belonged to merely doubled the bullying he'd already been put through. By the end of the first month, there wasn't a single hurtful name he hadn't heard. It was just part of his daily life. The brusies became a permanent fixture of art on his pale skin. Makeup became his friend. He easily hid the bags from sleepless nights with a bit of concealer. His clothes hid the rest.

At the age of nine he lost his mother to cancer. From then on it had been merely himself and his father. At least, until last year...

As of last year (five months to be exact, they'd met her in July of the previous year), Kurt's father had been in a relationship with a woman by the name of Cassandra James. The term "woman" applied to her loosely in Kurt's mind because she was barely even worthy of the title "human".

Cassandra was a woman of beauty. Her bone structure was the desired model's, her body slim and curvy. She had a beautiful face framed by curly strawberry blond locks. Her blue eyes sparkled in a hidden joke that only she knew of. Every one that met her liked her. Every but Kurt.

Kurt knew better. This woman was a lioness lying in wait to strike the fatal blow to her prey.

_Hot breath on his neck... hands... groping, searching, tugging... a tongue gliding over warm skin chilled by fear and revulsion...the tearing of clothing... engulfing heat... broken cries and strangled pleas... moans, groaning... begging... shame..._

The teen paused in his task and shook his head, bleached blond bangs waving across his glaz vision briefly. Taking a moment, he reached a black nailed hand up and examined the blond bangs. It was funny really... he used to take pride in his hair. It used to be a beautiful chesnut color that glowed healthily. He used to look professional, model worthy like his mother had been. Now he bleached his hair, cut it short, spiked it up in a fouxhawk. His right brow was pierced twice, his tongue once. Spider bites glittered on his lower lip. Black eyeliner traced his lower eyelids, smudged slightly form the tears that had fallen earlier. His let out a soft snort and continued down the deserted street, hiking his backpack higher onto his shoulder. What would his mother think if she could see what he'd become within the last four months?

He didn't want to know...

Slipping through a familiar alleyway, Kurt made his way onto the school grounds and jumped the fence. In the distance, he could hear the cheers of celebration for the new year. He was beginning to hate the marks of time.

_"Come on Kurtie... your father won't be home for another few hours... let's play..."_

Revulsion swept over him and he paused to grip his stomach and grimace. He felt sick.

_"You've been a bad boy, Kurtsie... a very bad boy... I should punish you..."_

He dry heaved, the strap of his bag slipping lower on his arm and to the grass below with a soft thump.

_"You really are a big boy, aren't you~?"_

The teen gagged and doubled over, the contents of his stomach spilling out and onto the gravel below.

_"You feel so goo~d!"_

Coughing, he gagged a few more times before the heaving stopped. He spit a few times, trying to clean his mouth of anything left over before he straightened up once more. Staggering slightly, he stepped away from the sick and grabbed his bag. He was almost there, just a few more steps and he'd be there...

Clearing his mind as best he could, he shook his head and swallowed harshly as he started walking again. The main doors to the building finally loomed over him and he slowly ascended the steps. Shifting a bit, he set the bag down and scanned his canvas and smirked.

"Perfect... 2012... here I come..." he purred, leaning down and opening the bag to reveal cans of spray paint.

He made the first spray count as much as he did with every other spray. Not a single drop of paint was wasted. Slowly, his act of vandalism started to take shape. He was making the last few touches when the sound of sirens reached his ears.

His head snapped up and he paled. The first cruiser parked out side the gates and the officer climbed out. Dropping his can of paint, Kurt bolted. If he got caught he was a dead man. The only fault in his plan was his escape. The only possible way of escape was over the fence, making him loose ten seconds. That ten seconds turned out to be vital as he was grabbed and restrained.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The picture was slid across the table, coming to stop in front of the teen. Sitting back in his seat, Kurt played idly with one of his lip piercings. The police officer just lifted a brow and settled a gaze on the other. "...Mind telling me what you see here?"

Kurt sighed and shifted, making a show of looking it over. "... two giraffs hummping a hippo?" He asked, leaning back in his seat once more.

"I won't tolerate any of your lip, kid."

Sighing, Kurt squinted a bit as he took a second to find the officer's name on his uniform. "Officer O'Connor, if I may? Technically you shouldn't be talking to me without a guardian present anyway... so why bother?" he asked, offering up something close to his old "bitch-look".

The officer frowned at him. "We've already contacted your father and he's given us the go ahead to begin with the basic questions..."

Kurt cringed at this, muttering a soft "shit" under his breath. The one night his dad had had a chance to get a real night's sleep and instead he was coming to get Kurt... again.

A knock sounded at the door and the officer opened the door to let in a very tired looking Burt Hummel. Upon his father's gaze landing on him, Kurt sunk deeper into his chair. He knew that look. Complete and utter disappointment.

"Hello Officer... would you mind explaining just why I'm here... again?" Burt asked, casting another look in his son's direction.

"Mr. Hummel-"

"Call me Burt. I'm certainly coming here enough within the last few months..." Burt stated, his gaze landing on his ever shrinking son.

"Burt... your son was arrested on school grounds after being caught in the act of vandalising the school front." O'Connor shifted briefly, his greying hair catching the light just enough to look silver, and grabbed the photo to hand to the other man. "This is his handy work..."

The photo was a clear shot of Kurt's "artwork". To the left of the frame was a surprisingly detailed image of two men. It was clear they were kissing, the image looking harmless enough with a short caption underneath with classic graffitti bubble letters spelling out "I kissed a boy and I liked". To the right the lettering scrawled out a quote. "Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself. ~Harvey Fierstein". In all honesty, there were people that would consider this a work of art. But in Lima Ohio, the chances of that were slim to none.

Burt sighed and removed his hat and ran a hand over his head. "Kurt..." he muttered in exasperation. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Not my fault the people here are too single minded to give two shits..." Kurt muttered.

"Kurt!"

"Young man, this isn't a joke. This is a serious offence. This school is government property." O'Connor stated, his frown deepening.

"Of course, it's such a serious offence because of the content. If it was a simple 'Principle Figgins sucks ass' you'd be giving the kid a slap on the wrist and sending him home." Kurt snapped back. "You know what? You can take your homophobic thoughts and shove them up your ass along with your daddy's cock! Shit... George Vidal was right. Trust a nitwit society like this to think that there are only two categories – fag and straight."

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel!" Burt snapped, silencing his son instantly. He sighed and looked to the officer. "I'll leave my contact information and pay bail..."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Rain pelted the windshield of Kurt's navigator as he sat in the parking lot of the same school he'd just defaced. He could already feel the dread beginning to seep into his body as he thought about his punishment. He was being forced to clean up his graffitti after school as well as attend a local counseling group for troubled teens. He shifted his grip on the steeringwheel, his knuckles whitening as he gripped harder. He really wasn't looking forwad to this. Monday morning and already he was trying to avoid the looks he knew he was about to get.

Sighing, he sucked it up and grabbed his graffittied messenger bag and climbed out of the Navigator. It was surprisingly warm out for winter, the sun managing to warm him through the black that layerd his body. Pulling his jacket tighter around himself, he started up through the gates and to the main doors. He still needed to check in with the office.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Rolling his sleeves up higher, Kurt dunked his scrubbing brush into the warm soapy water once more. It was still raining, unusual for the time of year considering it should have been snow, but so far the entire winter had been like this. He muttered in annoyance under his breath and started scrubbing once more. Classes were in full swing and so far he didn't have to worry about running into anyone he wanted to avoid. Of course his luck just couldn't last too long.

It was around lunch period when he heard the voice of his main tormentor.

"What's this, lady face? Dirtying your hands with commoner's work?" Karofsky sneered, stepping over with his toady, Azimio, following close behind.

Closing his eyes for a second, Kurt shifted and turned to look at the other. "What could you possibly want now, Karofsky? I don't have time for your neanderthal man handling today..."

Karofsky paused before his gaze narrowed. "You think you're so funny don't you?"

"Not really. I just don't feel like wasting any energy on your ugly mug today seeing as I still have half a school wall to restore." Kurt shrugged, turning back to his work. He'd later look back on this moment as one of the many that were far from his smartest.

Hands suddenly grabbed him as he was yanked to his feet with a gasp. Karosfky smirked and grabbed his bucket of soapy, paint laden water and upturned it over Kurt's head. The shorter teen gave a startled yelp as he was hoisted up by the two much stronger teens and carelessly tossed into a dumpster, the lid slamming shut with an echoing laugh.

"See ya round, Faggot!"

Kurt just cringed. He wasn't sure how long he laid there. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes at most before he finally shifted and sat up. He could feel bruises beginning to form where his body had slammed against the metal sides of the dumpster. The cold began to seep through his wet clothing, causing him to shiver as he reached up to open the lid.

"I'm beginning to hate that bastard..." he muttered to himself, trying to lift the lid from his angle. He pushed his weight against it only to feel a second of no give before it was suddenly gone. With a squeak, he managed to catch himself on his hands against the side of the dumpster wall.

Rain water began to fall inside, pelting Kurt as he looked up only to freeze as he found a pair of honey gold hazel eye staring back down at him. He blinked a few times, shifting uneasily as a hand was extended to him.

"You alright?" the other boy asked, his voice slightly rougher like he'd been yelling recently.

Hesitating a second, Kurt took the hand and let himself be pulled up before he slid out of the dumpster and back into the full out rain.

Taking a closer look at his saviour, Kurt could honestly say he was attractive. Black curls fell into his eyes, dripping with rainwater. He appeared to have a slightly exotic look to his facial structure and eyes. Those eyes... they were enough to draw Kurt in. Forcing his gaze away from those motel pools of gold, Kurt took in the fading and yellowing bruises around the other's eye and jaw line. The teen was slightly shorter than Kurt, meaning he'd had to have used to the edge of the dumpster to even reach in and help Kurt out.

"Yeah..." Kurt finally answered after a moment. He cleared his throat, cringing at the way his voice had cracked earlier. "Yeah... I'm fine... thanks..."

"No problem..."

It was silent a moment, Kurt glancing around to see if anyone else was around. "So... what's your-" he stopped as he looked back to the other boy, or at least where he'd been just a second before. He blinked and looked around once more, spotting the teen as he slipped inside the building doors.

"...Well that was weird..."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The day after that was uneventful for Kurt. He kept cleaning up the graffitti until a woman from the office came to get him. By then his hands were pruned and his clothing was finally starting to dry. He hadn't bothered to go get changed. It wasn't like he'd have the chance. He could barely take a break to piss without the staff breathing down his neck.

So how he found himself in the school choir room was a question that could easily be answered. That answer, was at the front of the room, tapping a whiteboard marking against the back of a piano. William Scheuster, the curly headed- too much gel- overly happy- everyone's a winner but I still play favorites- Spanish teacher was his group counselor. The only thing Kurt could even begin to think about was another pathetic attempt to get closer to the school counselor Ms. Pillsbury.

The door opened and in stepped Noah Puckerman, known to the school as Puck. The mowhawked teen was one of the jocks of the school, running it due to his badass reputation and by a running record of girls laid that was still growing and had yet to be beaten.

Puck smirked when he spotted Kurt, making his way over to the other and sitting in the chair behind him. "Sup, Hummel?" he asked, his cocky attitude just grating on the blond's nerves further. "You know... I've been meaning to ask. What's with the bleached hair and grunge look? Seems kinda like a complete 180 if you know what I mean."

"Noah..." Kurt finally spoke up, turning to glare at the other teen. "Don't take this personally, but shut the hell up..."

Puck just blinked before snorting and leaning back in his chair. "Whatever..."

Kurt turned his gaze back to the others that slowly filed into the room. To be honest, he wasn't all that surprised to see Puck nor Santan Lopez. The two that did surprise him slightly were Finn Hudson, the local quarter back, and Rachel Berry, the goody-goody that she was. After all, Santana had a record as long as Puck's. The other two didn't.

Will finally lifted his gaze and hummed. "We're waiting on one more and then we can get started." he stated, acting as if those around him actually gave a fuck about what he was saying. Kurt just rolled his eyes and waited.

Five minutes passed before the door opened and in stepped the teen from before. Kurt blinked, his eyes widening a fraction as he recognized the curly headed teen that had helped him from the dumpster earlier. The teen scanned the room before his gaze locked on Kurt's, those honey colored eyes drawing him in.

"Ah... Mr. Anderson, take a seat and we'll get started..."


	2. 1: Anger, Sex, and Loneliness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kind of edited... I think there's still some major spelling mistakes. If you see them, let me know.
> 
> .... god my writing sucked a year ago.
> 
> [A lovely picture of Kurt](http://my-lord-megatron.tumblr.com/post/15421245106/a-beautifully-done-fanart-by-mnhummel-for-sing) done for the original fic, by MNHummel. Congrats, you've always followed a link to my tumblr. I'm so sorry...

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the First**

**Anger, Sex, and Loneliness**

Blaine Anderson was far from an abnormal teenager. He kept his grades up, obeyed his parents, rarely acted out, performed in his school's glee club, perfected the language of Italian in his own spare time. Son of a lawyer turned politician, he learned how to play an array of instruments, the piano, guitar, violin, even the flute. He was the typical well behaved rich boy. He was the pride and joy of his parents. At least, he was until he came out.

Micheal Anderson was a well respected and feared man. He owned almost the entire city of Westerville through debts alone. Once he was elected into office, he ruled with a right wing agenda, speaking out for the church and the act to make homosexuality illegal. He'd been grooming Blaine to follow in his footsteps. At least, he was until Blaine came out.

Amanda Anderson was the perfect housewife. Her candlelight suppers were well known and any party she threw was a spectacle of its own. She prided herself on being the ideal hostess. Appearances were everything to her and she made sure to put her husband's image before her own. She doted on her son. She gave him everything to make him flourish into a charming young man. She wanted to find him a wife. At least, she did until Blaine came out.  
The Anderson family was perfect. They were the epitome of the upper class family. Well groomed, all appearance and subtle flash. The nice cars. The hundreds of friends. They had connections everywhere. They were the family everyone wanted to be. At least, they were until Blaine came out.

Blaine frowned and shook his head, black unruly curls, falling into his eyes and dancing across his vision with a joyful bounce. That same bounce that would have been in his step had it been a mere year and a half earlier. But that life was long gone. It had managed to come back after the Sadie Hawkin's dance... but once he left the halls of Dalton Academy it disappeared.

The teen sighed and shifted in his seat, staring blankly back at the man standing before the group. He couldn't stop staring at his hair. It was disturbing really. The man used so much product it was frightening. Not even Blaine used that much to slick his curls back in Dalton, and he knew he used a lot. Everytime the man's head moved, he couldn't help but cringe slightly as the curls atop his head waved. Almost like a golden sea of jello... ok that was an image he never wanted in his head again. So much for eating jello ever again. _Not too much of a loss... he thought. I never cared much for the texture anyway. And plus, whenever there was fruit in it it was like watching a horrible cannibalistic scene in slow motion._

"So... My name is William Scheuster, though I'm sure most of you know me as your Spanish teacher." Product head man stated. So he had a name? _Funny... you'd think he'd suffocated his brain cells with all that product and couldn't remember his own name._ Blaine thought a bit, tilting his head to the side to study the horrific scene more closely.  
"I was thinking we could all stand up and introduce ourselves, maybe say a bit about why we're here?"

 _It's almost like it's eating his head…_ the teen mused.

"Alright, why don't we start with you?" William asked, looking to a Latina girl in the corner. Snapping out of his thoughts, Blaine turned his gaze to the girl and looked her over. If he were straight he would have been drooling and hard as a rock. She was almost like the epitome of sexuality. With her white cut off shorts exxposing her long bronze legs, blank tanktop, and short white jean jacket, she demanded the male eye. Shockingly cold brown eyes glared back at the man, her black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Blowing a bubble with her gum, she smacked her lips for a second before standing.

"Fine... I'm Santana Lopez... I'm here because the cops just wanted to get into my pants and I said no." she stated dryly, rolling her eyes. Even her voice was a rough growl.

William Scheuster lifted a brow. "Are you sure that's why you're really here?"

"You know what, get the fuck off my back. I don't have to answer you anything!" Santana snapped back before she flopped back down into her seat. The teacher just sighed and moved on, looking to a man with a mohawk.

Sighing, the teen stood and crossed his arms, black wife beater stretching across his chest and showing his splendid musculature. Blaine bit back a groan of appreciation. Too bad the guy was likely straight. His jeans were ripped in a few places, his converse faded black and well loved.

"I'm Puck. I'm here because people don't know how to lock their doors." he stated rather bluntly.

"Thank you... Noah..." Mr. Schue muttered, frowning a bit as he watched the other sit down. He turned his gaze to the next person and Blaine nearly froze. It was the boy from the dumpster…

The blond stood up and flicked the fallen fringe from his glaz eyes and sighed. "I really don't see a point to this..." he muttered, his voice smooth and musical. Blaine could only imagine what that voice could do to him in a slightly lower register. He shivered.

The teen was dressed in black leather pants, the bottoms tucked into knee high biker boots, studs lining the straps. His torso was wrapped in a tight black shirt with a punk style rainbow unicorn on it. He wore a jacket similar to Santana's the black jean fabric graffittied and drawn on with different bold colors. A ranbow colored bandana was wrapped around his neck, angled to the side. It was hard not to miss this guy's statement.

"Name's Your Mom and I'm here because I told a cop to suck my balls..."

"Kurt..." Will sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the teen smirked. "Be serious... or I'll have to call your father."

Rolling his eyes, the blond licked his lips quickly before looking around the room, his gaze landing on... _He's looking at me!_ Blaine thought, mildly shocked.

"I'm Kurt Hummel..." Kurt purred, smirking a bit. "I'm here because that lovely artwork outside on the school doors happens to be my handiwork..."

 _Oh god... he's eye fucking me…_ Blaine thought, his eyes widening slightly. Now, Blaine was not unfamiliar with the subject of sex. He just... never had the chance to really go further than a blowjob. Anything passed that, he had yet to experience and the fact that this boy was openly fantasizing about it almost unnerved him. Or maybe that was just because of the other's mesmerizing eyes.

"Thank you, Kurt. You can sit down again..."

Kurt glanced to the teacher before slipping back into his seat, his gaze staying on Blaine. Tearing his own gaze away from Kurt, Blaine focused on the other two people before him.  
Finn Hudson was a tall boy that had a lost look perpetually on his face. Confusion seemed to be his most common expression. It would have been cute if he were Blaine's type. But one look at him made it painfully obvious that Kurt's openness made him uneasy. Turns out he was there for a hit and run involving a mailman, apparently his second incident with said profession and cars. At least, if anything Kurt said was something to go off of.

The girl beside him was Rachel Berry, a girl that was in for shoplifting. Her confession had caused Kurt to burst out laughing, the girl glaring at the boy with a bit more venom than most people would usually put into it. Her nose was her prominent feature beside her stunning brown eyes. Her bangs were cut straight, her brunette hair falling down past her shoulders. She was dressed in a hideous reindeer sweater, a pleated skirt falling to her knees with black leggings below and flats on her feet. She screamed school librarian, and not the sexy kind.

William Schuester quickly called order back into the room, looking to Blaine last. The teen hesitated a moment, still able to feel Kurt's unnerving gaze on him. Self consciously, he stood and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, the denim worn and faded from years of use. He hadn't grown much in the last two years sadly and he had a feeling his last growth spurt wouldn't be more than an inch or two if he was even that lucky.

"Uh... My name is Blaine Anderson..." He started, hesitating as he looked up and caught Kurt's gaze. What so interesting about himself that the other boy had to keep watching him like that? "I'm... I'm here because of an assault charge..."

"No shit?" Puck spoked up, laughing slightly. "Well fuck! You're ok with me then, bro." he stated, clapping once. "You got my respect."

"Noah calm down and please be quiet." William stated, frowning in clear disapproval of the other boy's reaction. Blaine blinked a few times before lifting a brow and taking his seat once more. Will waited for Blaine to be seated before stepped into the front and center of the room once more.

"Now then... the purpose of this group is going to be a few goals. The first of which is to find a group of people to which you can relate and talk about everything that bothers you and causes you to act out. Think of it as a nonjudgemental therapy circle. The second is the task of finding all your pain and anger and finding a way to chanel it into something productive. For us, that's going to be song." a collective groan though Blaine actually started listening closely. "You'll be joining the rest of my Glee club and competing with us the entire season. Yes, it's mandetory. As for the third goal, your parents have all signed papers giving us permission to administer a behavioral drug designed to calm you enough to start thinking things over rationally."

"So what you're saying is we're being labeled as freaks and forced to be your dancing monkeys?" Kurt stated, lifting a brow. "And on top of that, we're all supposed to be medicated like lunatics? Yeah... sounds like something my dad would do if my step mom wanted him to..."

"Kurt, if you would kindly keep your comments to yourself..." Mr. Schue tried.

"Not likely, Mr. S." Puck stated with a snort. "I'm with Princess on this one. This seems whacked..."

Sighing, Will shook his head and pulled out a tray, two cups for each of the six. One for water and the other with two small blue pills inside. "Take one of each and take them. No tricks. I will be reporting you if you don't behave. This is court ordered."

He handed the medications out and slowly, the number of cups dwindled down until Blaine took his own. Hesitating, he looked at the pills before glancing around at everyone. Santana popped hers without the help of water, Puck doing much the same. Rachel took hers with a cringe and gulping her water. Finn took his almost mechanically, likely from popping ibeuprofen after practices. Kurt locked gazes with Blaine before swallowing his own, chasing them down with the water. When Mr. Schue checked to made sure he'd swallowed, Kurt opened his mouth and moved his tongue to reveal the pills had been swallowed. The entire time his gaze never left Blaine's. _How the hell can a guy make taking medication sexy?_

Blaine sighed and took his as well, tossing the paper cups in the trash like the others had, Puck shooting his in like a basketball and cheering when they both went in.

"Good... Now, we'll be meeting after school every Tuesday and Thursday of the week. I'll be sending you all home with a bottle of your medication. One everyday. If you skip one dosage, we'll know. You're required to have these on you at all times so we can measure how many are missing as well as weekly blood draws will be necessary."

"That can't be legal!" Rachel protested. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Oh give it up. No one gives a shit about what you say even if it has some merit. Your voice is enough to drive someone up a wall and want to kill themselves."

"Kurt!" Will admonished. The blond just blinked innocently.

Finn blinked, frowning a bit as he thought it over. "You know... he's right. Your voice is kinda annoying.."

"You bastard!" Rachel snapped, standing and turning to look at the two boys. "I am far from annoying! I'll be a star one day!"

"Shut up, Berry. Your chances of getting out of this ass backwards town is slim to none. The only chance you've got is if you put that big mouth to work and suck a good few hundred cocks and even then you'll be lucky if your beak doesn't get in the way." Kurt snapped.

Santana blinked before grinning. "I like this boy." she purred, looking to Kurt. "Be my gayby?"

A slap echoed through the room as Rachel backhanded the blond. Kurt blinked before lifting his brow. "That all you've got?" he asked, tilting his head.

Huffing, Rachel turned and stormed from the room, the door slamming shut behind her. The room fell into silence after that, Will standing there in shock. Puck glanced to the clock and shrugged.

"I'm outta here..." he stated, standing and leaving. This triggered a chain effect, everyone standing and slowly filing out. Blaine hesitated, hanging back a short moment. He wasn't entirely sure how to deal with this. Having come from Dalton where there was a zero harrassment policy into this was like culture shock to the extreme. Sure he'd been charged for assault but this was a whole new leel of cruel he was not used to. Never had he seen how cruel these people could be. Even when he'd been nearly beaten to death, he still hadn't seen the effect of one person's insults. And to hear the icy cold words come from the vunerable blond he'd seen before was just too much of a shock.

Slowly, he gathered his things and left the room. He made his way down the halls towards one of the bathrooms. Best to stop and just gather his thoughts before he went out to his car. The halls were empty as he made his way down them, the rows of lockers silent and still as the student body had long gone home for the day. Even his fellow counseling members were likely already getting in their cars to leave. Shaking his head, he pushed open the bathroom door only to stop in his tracks.

"Oh fuck~! ….ngh~ Noah~...!" the gasp echoed through the small room, the two figures in plain sight.

Pressed against one of the closed stall doors was Kurt, his pants down and around one ankle, a leg lifted and thrown over the arm of the teen behind him. His chest pressed against the stall door. Behind him was Noah Puckerman, buried to the hilt in the other's ass, thrusting in a steady rhythm. One arm braced against the stall door while his other was lifted, wrapped around the blond's throat to hold him steady for every thrust.

Blushing heavily, Blaine started to turn around before he paused. Something had caught his eye. Hesitating, he shook his head and left in a hurry, running down the halls and to his car. Slipping into the Porsche, he locked the doors behind him and slumped into his seat, letting out a heavy sigh.

His mind kept replaying that scene in his head, his brow furrowing as he thought back to it with greater detail. Had Kurt... been crying? His frown deepened as he started the car and pulled out onto the road. Kurt had sounded like he was enjoying it but... the look on the blond's face had been almost... detatched. It was odd. No... Blaine thought, shaking his head once more. _It was frightening... He looked completely unattached to reality right then... like he was just giving up and letting himself be used._ And what was with the bruises he'd seen on the other's hips?

This was just confusing him even more. _How could someone be so stoic during sex? So distant? Why would he be crying? What he scared? Was he being forced into it?_ Blaine nearly slammed on the breaks as he almost missed a red light. "Oh my god... what if he's a prostitute?" No, that didn't seem right. After all, the graffiti Kurt was supposedly responsible had been about gay rights and if there was one thing Blaine knew it was that Ohio was far from a Utopia for gay men. 

Thinking this made his head hurt. Why the hell did he care so much anyway? He'd just met the guy and all he'd done was practically eye fuck him the entire meeting. _But... I saw him when he was hassled... I helped him and he wasn't so cocky then... he looked... scared..._ Blaine thought this over as he came up to the long drive way to his parents house. He really needed to stop thinking about this and focus on his school work. 

Sighing, he pulled up to the house his parents owned. Parking, he got out once he'd killed the engine and made his way into the house. It was silent. Like always. Slowly, he made his way to his room, not bothering to call out to let them know he was home. They weren't there to hear anyway. Even if they were they wouldn't answer. He was alone... He always was and would forever remain alone... 


	3. 2: Mama's Sweet Baby Criminal

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the Second**

**Mama's Sweet Baby Criminal**

Every child has a connection to their mother. A special bond shared only with mother and child that no other person can recreate. This connection is something every child craves. Most have some form of it. Others aren't so lucky.

The same could be said of the six teenagers in William Scheuster's Support Group. Each one of them had a unique relationship with that one mother figure that defined who they were and that started their downward spiral.

Noah Puckerman was close to his mother. He and his sister were all his mother had, causing them to have a deep respect for the woman that had raised he and his sister alone. To have her disappointed in them was almost as bad as her telling them she didn't want them anymore.

So for Noah to walk home after his counseling that day, it was like a smack in the face when he spotted his tired mother sitting at their coffee table and nursing a strong cup of coffee. He hesitated before finding his voice.

"Eema?" he asked softly, shifting over to her nervously.

Sighing, she lifted her gaze to the teen and frowned. "...What do you want, Noah?"

Swallowing, Noah shifted a bit closer. "I... just... wanted to let you know I was home... and that I love you..."

"...I have to get ready for work." She whispered, standing up and taking her mug to the sink. Noah bit back a flinch, ducking his head. He knew his mother was disappointed with him. She'd been like this before, but Noah was almost afraid that this was the last straw.

She moved passed him without so much as a look before she was out the door and gone. The door slamming shut caused the teen to flinch once more and he sighed. He couldn't lose his mother. He'd seen what that did to kids and without his dad in his life, she was all he had holding him together.

Sighing, he went up the stairs and knocked on his sister's door. "Sarah?" he called. He waited a moment before speaking once more. "Akhot?"

The door swung open and a twelve year old glared up at him, arms crossed over her chest. "What?" she snapped softly, frowning in annoyance. Noah visibly flinched back from the greeting and she sighed. "What is it, achi?" she asked, her tone softer now.

"Just... wanted to check up on you..." Noah answered, his voice slightly rougher.

Sarah looked him over and shrugged. "Just doing homework..." she replied, warming up to her elder brother once more. "... Call me when supper's ready?"

"Can do, squirt..." Noah replied, smiling a bit and ruffling her hair. She rolled her eyes and swatted his hand away before closing her door once more. Shaking his head, Noah made his way to his own room and pulled out his phone, dialing a familiar number.

"If you think I'm coming all the way to your house so you can fuck me again, think it over once more... carefully, Noah." Came the commanding voice Puck was familiar with. He just snorted.

"Relax, Kurt. Just... needed to talk..."

"... Your mom not talking to you again?" Kurt asked, his tone softening from the cold as ice tone it had been before hand.

"Something like that..."

"Just be happy you still have her..." a sigh "Noah... just... give her some time, alright? She'll come around. She loves you too much to abandon you..."

"...I know. I just can't stop thinking she's gonna-"

"Noah, stop. I've known you since we were in diapers. And I know your mom. She's the closest I've come since mine died... she loves you and Sarah so much and she works herself to the bone for you... I would give anything to have that..."

"I know you would..." Noah paused as he thought over just a mere hour ago. "...Mind telling me why you jumped me earlier today? Before you went home?"

Silence

"Kurt?"

"...She wasn't happy about me getting arrested again..." came the whispered response. Puck sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. If anyone at school were to ever ask him what his relationship with Kurt Hummel was he'd merely say they hated one another. In truth, they were as close as brothers. He wasn't entirely sure when they started their sick little arrangement. Sometime after Cassandra moved in with the Hummels. Puck still didn't know all the details, but whatever it was about that woman triggered a need in Kurt to be used. He got into these odd funks where he'd be crude and flirt with anything with legs and it wouldn't end until someone had fucked him rough and hard. He needed to be treated like trash, to be humiliated. He'd gone to Puck the first time and from there on they'd reached a deal. Puck would help Kurt out and in return Kurt would be there to reassure the other when ever he messed up.

He'd known he was bisexual since he entered high school. His preferences leaned more towards women, but there had been the occasional boy now and then. He wasn't so out spoken about it like some. He'd seen what happened to the kids that were out. He knew what Kurt went through daily. He couldn't handle that.

How they'd gone from not talking after so many years to their only real life lines in a matter of a few months was a mystery to Noah, but he was thankful for it. The entire thing was accidental. One that Noah would repeat as many times as he needed to get it right. If not for himself then for Kurt.

"...Kurt you need to tell your dad about this..."

"I can't!"

Puck felt his heart plummet into his gut at the sound of panic in his friend's voice. He'd scared him off and it had only taken one simple sentence. He cringed, bracing for what he knew was coming.

"I can't tell him! His heart couldn't take it! And besides... It's not like I don't deserve it anyway..." Kurt whispered.

"Kurt you don-"

"Good night, Noah..." and with that, the line went dead. With a frustrated snarl, Noah tossed his phone across the room and buried his face in his pillow. He was getting sick of this.  
Sighing, he sat up and ran a hand over his strip of hair. He needed to stop thinking so much and just let it go for a while. It wasn't his problem. Kurt didn't want his help so he was just going to stay out of it.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

"I'm home!" Rachel called out, smiling as she heard the footsteps of her parents approaching. She quickly shrugged off her coat and hung it up, setting her shoes aside.

"Rachel! How was your day, Sweetie?"

"Tell us, how did it go?"

The voices of her two dad's sounded as she looked up and hugged both in greeting. "It went ok... I mean... I had to put up with the uncivilized portion of the student body, but I guess I did it to myself.." she sighed dramatically, brushing her hair behind her ears.

"Well at least you made it home alright." Eli stated, tilting his head and fixing his glasses on his nose. His light brown hair was cut short, giving him a smart and clean cut look. Beside him, Todd grinned and wrapped an arm around his husband's shoulders, his darker skin making a contrast against Eli's paler skin color that Rachel was used to.

This was how she'd grown up since she had been born. She'd never known her mother and she was fine with that. She ignored the gnawing ache in the pit of her gut that always begged to have a mother to hold her. But for now, she was content.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Finn Hudson loved his mother unconditionally. After losing his father to the war, he was the man of the house. He helped his mother out with everything around the house. He never got into trouble, on purpose at least, and he always did his best to make her smile. It was through these attempts that they learned never to let him cook or do laundry. It just wasn't safe.

Carole Hudson was a woman that was well liked and did her best for her son. She dated a few men, one of them even managing to teach Finn a few things about being a man. But no one taught him more than his own mother. So when he was sentenced to this group therapy, Carole was 100% behind her son. He had never done anything wrong on purpose. He had panicked and she knew that. She was there to back him up and support him while he tried to make up for his mistake. That was what he was taught to do. Try not to mess up and if he did, he had to do everything he could to fix it or make up for it.

Getting home, he was greeted by a home cooked meal and Carole on the phone with her work.

"Of course I can... No, it's no problem at all. I owe you anyway for last week... yes... alright. I'll be there in an hour." She hummed before hanging up and turning to her son. "Welcome home." she greeted, smiling and hugging him.

Finn grinned and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek. "You have to go into work early tonight?"

"Yeah, Mark called in sick and I owed him from last week so..."

"Alright. I'll take care of clean up here. I love you, Mom..."

"I love you too. Make sure you do your homework as well."

"Yes, Mom."

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Santana Lopez hated being home. She could do everything right and still she would hear nothing more than screaming. It was ironic if she really thought about it. She was constantly judged for her sexual escapades when it was painfully obvious both her parents were having affairs.

She groaned and shifted on her bed, throwing a pillow over her head in an attempt to drown out the screaming she could hear coming up the stairs. Her father and mother were going at it again, another argument, likely involving herself. Truly, she was sick of this.

Her mother's voice screeched and she flinched. She knew that tone. It was one of anger and hate. She'd heard that tone directed at one too many people. In a lot of ways, Santana hated her mom. She had horrible taste in men and set a poor example for her daughter. She was the reason Santana didn't do relationships.

On the other hand, though, she looked up to her mother. She was a strong woman that was, for the most part, independent. She never once caved to her husband or any of the other men she slept with. If one raised a hand to her, she was done with them. She kept herself and her daughter safe. It was the unspoken rule. Sure she was a screw up in a lot of ways. The same had been said of Santana, but it was because of her mom that she desperately wanted to get out of Lima. To leave Ohio and actually make a name for herself. It was the only thing keeping her in school.

The screaming continued. Glancing at her door, she grabbed her phone and sent a quick text to a close friend of hers. Dressing in her usual head-turning way, she slipped out her window, leaving her parents none the wiser.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Blaine wasn't sure when his parents arrived home. All he knew was that he could hear his mother's voice as she made her way down the hall to find him. He shifted from where he was sprawled on his bed and rested his weight on his elbows, legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

A knock.

"Blaine?" A timid voice came through.

Blaine hesitated a moment. Did he really want to talk to his mother? After all, the last time they'd talked had been her telling him how much of a disappointment he was. Had it really been only over a year ago that that had happened? How he'd managed to keep form really talking to her he had no clue.

Standing, he made his way to the door and opened it for her. "Yeah, mom?" he asked, noting the flinch she tried to hide.

Amanda Anderson looked him over for a moment before speaking up, her lips drawn in a tight line as if forcing herself to be anywhere near him. "Your father wants you dressed properly and downstairs in half an hour for supper... he's invited another family over for supper and they're bringing their daughter to meet you."

Blaine frowned. "Mom-"

"No, Blaine! Don't argue with me! Just do it!" she snapped before turning and leaving once more.

Blaine stood there for a moment and let the entire incident sink in. Another supper. Another policital connection. Another attempt to make his straight. Sighing, he turned and shut his door. He was beginning to get sick of this. But he was so desperate to please his parents while trying to be himself. He needed to give one up to have the other and it was like he was constantly being tugged in different directions.

He'd been losing sleep for a while now and he couldn't take much more. Briefly the idea of leaving for a while flashed through his mind and he paused to look out his window at the large oak tree before him. It was so tempting. So very tempting... But he couldn't let his mother down. Despite the many times she hadn't been there for him within the last year, he still needed to pay her back for everything up to then.

Shaking his head, he went to his closet and dug out an outfit before going to shower and change.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

It was late by the time Kurt entered his home. His father was gone to Columbus for a week. Something to do with a business deal for the shop. Kurt didn't really think much of it. He just knew he didn't have to work until the weekends thanks to the counseling he was part of for the time being.

It was quiet for the most part, but he still didn't make much noise. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself. He knew Cassandra was still awake and she was the last person he wanted to see. He hated to admit it, but she scared him. She was unpredictable and he couldn't read her. She set him on edge and it made it harder for him to relax within his own home.

"Kurt..." a sickly sweet voice sounded. The blond's head snapped up and his gaze went to the woman before him. Cassandra stood in nothing but a baggy t shirt, her five month old daughter resting on her hip.

Everytime he saw that woman with her child he felt a sharp pain shoot through his chest and his rib cage tighten in jealousy. That child still had her mother. As much of a scum bag that woman was, that little girl still had her mother and she hadn't a clue how lucky she was. He'd lost his mother. She was never coming back and he knew it. And it hurt. So much... Sure he was close to his father, but his mother... she was the one that could always make him feel safe. They still had an old vanity of hers that Kurt kept in his room. She'd spilled a bottle of her perfume in the bottom drawer when it had been moved into, at the time, new house when Kurt was six. It still smelled like her. And now there was this woman.. this abomination that dared to call herself his new "mom".

"Kurt, where were you? You should have been home hours ago. You're lucky your father's not home." she scolded. Kurt didn't respond, just fixed a cold gaze on her. She sighed and shook her head. "Go to your room. I have to put Kayla down for the night... I'll be down in a few minutes to talk about your curfew."

He didn't wait for her to say it again. He just shouldered passed her and down to his basement bedroom. He couldn't dare lock the door while she was there watching him descend the stairs so he knew he didn't have a chance of getting out of it for the night.

Arriving in his room, he shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his boots, setting them inside his closet. A few seconds later, he hadn't moved. The sound of footsteps on the stairs echoing in his head.

"Kurt..." Cassandra's voice purred, a rough and almost breathless sound to it. "You've been a bad boy again..."

The door to the basement slid shut with a click that was more deafening than any cannon blast.


	4. 3: Drama Setter

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the Third**

**Drama Setter**

The first week rolled by without much incident. Tuesday and Thursday the six had sat in for Glee rehearsals. They weren't there for any other purpose but to listen in and get a feel for the environment. Kurt was so very close to slamming his head against a wall from boredom alone. He loved music. He loved singing. Hell, he even enjoyed dancing to a point. But just sitting in the same room as Rachel Berry and having to listen to her scoff and talk about how she was much more suited for this solo or that solo. If he had to listen to another hour of this, he was going to kill.

Sighing, he leaned back and took out the orange prescription bottle in his pocket. He'd been taking these for a week and already he wanted to just flush the whole damned thing down the drain. Maybe if he was lucky, he could say he lost it and couldn't find it... He sighed and shook his head. _No.. that won't work. They'll just get me more and make me take them in front of them._ Well there went that idea. A tap on his shoulder caught his attention and he turned his glaz gaze to the right, meeting Noah's coffee brown gaze.

The teen glanced to the front of the room where their teacher was lecturing before looking back to the brunet and giving a mildly annoyed expression settle into place. " _What?_ " he hissed, brows furrowing.

Noah rolled his eyes and nudged a folded piece of paper over to him. _What are we? In grade school?_ He mused to himself as he swiped the paper from the other and quietly unfolded it.

Gonna tell me what was up with you Monday? - P

Kurt snorted and looked to the other, silently questioning if he was serious. Puck just frowned and mimed replying for a second before beckoning him to do so. Rolling his eyes, Kurt grabbed his pen and scribbled out a reply.

Your mom. - K

He didn't have to wait long for a reply, Puck reading the message and quickly punching him in the shoulder. They sat in the far back corner of the room, not needing to worry about any prying eyes at the moment. The teacher never bothered with them anyway.

Real mature, ass hole. I'm being serious. I've been silent all week and you haven't said a word. - P

I thought it was witty. And you ever think it's because I don't want to tell you? - K

A frustrated sigh.

Hummel, I'm being serious. - P

So am I. Your mom. Monday night. All week. Your sister wanted to join in too. - K

Watch it before I beat your skinny gay ass. And stop deflecting! - P

But it's soooo~ much fun.. ^^ - K

The next reply was slightly messier, the pencil having obviously been pressed down with more force than necessary. Kurt smirked. Oh he was good…

Damn it, Kurt! - P

Some one's frustrated~! - K

He doodled a few music notes at the ends for good measure. Puck's eye twitched as he read the reply, crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash from his seat. The teacher finally looked up and glared at them.

"You have legs, Mr. Puckerman. Use them." She growled, turning back to the board. A collective giggle rippled through the classroom as Noah sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"What ever, Teach..." he muttered.

Kurt bit back a groan and rested his head on his desk. He sometimes wondered why he even bothered anymore.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Kurt sighed and shifted on his bed. Around the room, Eminem echoed through his speakers. He was ignoring the world for the time being, waiting for his father to get home. It had been hell. The entire week it had been just himself and the bitch upstairs. He was starting to get sick of it. He hadn't slept the entire time his father had been gone and he'd eaten about as much. At lunch, Noah had dragged him off school grounds to grab fast food. He'd sat the entire period, making sure Kurt had finished everything. That was probably why he was still getting texts from the teen.

**U sure ur alright? - P**

**Kurt plz answer me – P**

**Dude? - P**

**Kurt? - P**

**Alright now im worried – P**

**Plz answer me! - P**

God he hated to worried Noah. He could deal with just about any other emotion of his except for worry. When Puck worried, he was like a mother hen. Though it was likely due to all the time he'd spent babysitting his sister.

Reading through the last message, Kurt just closed out of it and flipped his phone to somewhere on the bed. He wasn't in the mood to respond.

The sound of the door opening caught his attention and he blinked. Looking up, he spotted his father's familiar boots descending the stairs in the basement bedroom. The blond relaxed a few times.

"Kurt?" Burt's voice was familiar to the teen, Kurt smiling slightly without even realizing it.

"Hey dad..." he replied, tone actually welcoming. Burt paused as he reached the bottom of the stairs and looked over to where his son was laying. The man took a moment to look around the meticulously cleaned room, the one thing about the blond that hadn't changed within the last month.

He'd kept a close eye on the teen. He wasn't stupid. He knew the trouble had started ever since Cassandra had moved in with them. He knew it was because Kurt felt like he was trying to replace the late Elizabeth Hummel with someone else. He couldn't really blame the kid.  
"Hey, kiddo..." Burt started, stepping over to the other. "How'd it go this week?"

_I'm a Drama Setter, gripping my beretta sipping Armaretta_   
_Man you crazy if you think Ima let up_   
_I told you I'm a Drama Setter_   
_I'll be the first to set it homie, you can bet it just don't get in the way of my chedda_   
_Man cause I'm a Drama Setter_

Kurt shifted a bit and shrugged. He sat up to make room for his father. "It was... ok I guess. I mean Puck's in the group, not that that's a surprise..." he started. Burt nodded and took a seat.

"So... what exactly do they have you doing?"

"Well... we've got this that we have to take. One per day..." Kurt muttered, pulling his medication out of his pocket and handing it to his father for him to see. "They're pretty strict on the dosage. They count them and then when we're in counseling we have to take them right in front of our counselor."

Burt nodded with a hum. "Yeah... I remember reading something about that. Some experimental drug to try and mellow people out."

Kurt just snorted. "Whatever... they've also got us joining their glee club..."

_I don't go looking for no trouble but somehow the trouble always finds me_   
_Don't make me have you in the trauma center_   
_With you momma crying cause her only son is dying_   
_She don't know it's just your karma catching up cause I'm a Drama Setter_

"Glee club, huh? Sounds like something your mom would have loved to have seen you in..." Burt mused, tilting his head back a bit to look at the ceiling. Kurt fell silent at that. He knew what was coming. "...Cassandra said you gave her some trouble this week..."

"Not this again.."

"Kurt. Stop it. Cassandra just wants to get to know you."

Kurt snorted and stood, making his way across the room to dig through his closet for a change of clothes.

"Don't ignore me. Just what is it you don't like about her?"

"Where do you want me to start?" Kurt asked, a soft growl rumbling deep in his chest. For having such a high pitched voice for a male, his voice was suddenly deeper and much more threatening than one could imagine coming from him.

Burt frowned. "Don't take that tone with me, Kurt. She's going to be your step mom one day. The least you could do is try-"

Kurt whirled around, eyes wide as he looked at his father. "You're going to marry her?!"

"That's the plan! Though if you keep treating her like this that chance'll be ruined!" Burt snapped, his temper already short enough with his son. He was just so tired of dealing with this. First Elizabeth had died. Kurt had come out. He'd started dating Cassandra. Kurt dyed his hair and started talking back. His heart attack. Cassandra moved in. The baby was born. And now this... When he had a chance to be happy and needed his son to do his best everything had to fall to hell.

"You have got to be kidding me..." Kurt scoffed, looking his father over as if disgusted.

"Kurt! Like it or not she's going to be you-"

"SHE'S NOT MY MOTHER!"

"NO! BUT SHE'S GOING TO BE YOUR STEP-MOTHER!" Burt retaliated. It was almost like a curse in the Hummel bloodline. Elizabeth had once referred to it like that at least. Hummel men were stubborn and usually even tempered. But when they snapped, they snapped hard and very little could reign in that anger. Elizabeth used to be Burt's grounding to reality. But she was gone and it had been far too long since the man had really lost it. Seven years of tension all recoiled and broke through.

"And if I manage to get rid of her before you pop the question?"

"Kurt don't you dare even think about it! This has got to stop! I'm sick of your attitude! The piercings! The clothes! Your hair! What has gotten into you! You used to be such a good kid!"

"Yeah well that kid died with mom!" Kurt snapped. He wished he could take those words back the second they left his mouth and his dad advanced on him, backing him against the wall.

A growl sounded from the taller man, his gaze narrowing. "You're going to stop, Kurt. You're going to clean up your act and you're going to make an appointment for tomorrow to have your hair stripped of this god awful color and dyed back to it's original color!"

"Bite me! The next thing you'll be telling me to do is fuck a girl and just deal with it!" Kurt challenged, his dad reaching out and snagging his upper arm as he tried to slip past him and away.

"I would never try to change who you are!"

"Really? Cause you're doing the fucking opposite!"

"Damn it, Kurt! This is the last warning you're going to get! I can't handle this anymore! _You're_ the reason I'm so stressed out right now! You're the reason I've been stressed!" Burt snapped, his grip on Kurt's arm tightening slightly. With a wince, Kurt's eyes widened and suddenly they'd both realized they'd gone too far.

It was silent, the words hanging heavily in the air. Father and son staring at one another, both in different states of shock and hurt. Burt regretted the words. Yes, Kurt was stressing him out, but it was mostly because he was worried for his son. These changes were so drastic that he didn't know what to do. He wasn't like his wife. He wasn't good with words or people or emotions. For Kurt, he stood there in shock. To be told he was the reason behind his father's stress... the reason behind the heart attack. He was the reason he'd almost lost his father. The father that he loved unconditionally and trusted with everything. That he was that much of a screw up that he almost caused his father's death... it stung more than if his own father would have full out hit him. He'd have preferred that.

Tearing his arm from his father's grip, he snarled. "Get your damned hands off me..." he choked out, trying his hardest to keep the lump in his throat from becoming anything more. Grabbing his jacket, her slipped into it and ran up the stairs, ignoring the shouts from that damned bitch that dared lay a hand on himself and his dad.

_I'm a Drama Setter, gripping my beretta sipping Armaretta_   
_Man you crazy if you think Ima let up_   
_I told you I'm a Drama Setter_   
_I'll be the first to set it homie, you can bet it just don't get in the way of my chedda_   
_Man cause I'm a Drama Setter_   
_I don't go looking for no trouble but somehow the trouble always finds me_   
_Don't make me have you in the trauma center_   
_With you momma crying cause her only son is dying_   
_She don't know it's just your karma catching up cause I'm a Drama Setter_

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Noah Puckerman blinked when he opened the door to one Kurt Hummel. Scratch that. One very disheveled and broken Kurt Hummel. His eyes widened when he noticed the red ring around Kurt's eyes. Not needing to think it over, he grabbed the other by the coat and dragged him into the house and up to his room. "Sarah! Put your headphones on!" Noah called to his sister, not waiting for an answer before he slammed his bedroom door behind them.

He looked over to where Kurt had sunk onto his bed and took a second to really _look_ him over. "Dude... You look like shit. What the hell happened?"

A soft, almost hysterical bark of laughter escaped the blond. "I almost killed my dad..." he choked out.

Puck blinked a few times before he stepped over. "What? The hell are you talking about?"

Sniffling, Kurt sat up a bit more and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his black long sleeved v-neck. Puck internally cringed, knowing that the blond would be raving mad about it later. But at the moment he didn't seem to care about it. "I almost killed my dad..." he stated again.

"I heard you. But, Kurt, you're not making any sense right now... How did you almost kill your dad?"

"I caused his heart attack.."

Noah growled softly. "Fuck. That. Who the hell told you that is a bastard and deserves to have their ass kicked!"

"He said it to my face, Noah!" Kurt snapped, letting out a choked sob before burying his face in his hands.

Puck was rooted to his spot. Burt Hummel had actually said that to his son? There was no way... He shifted and sat beside Kurt, pulling him into his arms and holding him until his sobs finally calmed down. Ten minutes later, Kurt was pulling away and wiping his eyes dry once more.

"Sorry... about that."

"It's fine, Kurt." Noah muttered, studying the other now.

"Shit... I've gotta look hideous now." the blond muttered, sniffling once more as he looked around the familiar messy room.

Puck snorted. "Bull shit. You're beautiful. Always are. And about what happened... I'm sure he didn't mean it. It probably slipped out in the heat of the moment. After all, you and your dad really do go at it when you butt heads."

"Yeah... I guess you're right..."

"Gonna stay for a bit?" Puck asked, tilting his head. "I mean... you could stay the night if you needed..."

A nod and Kurt sighed. "Yeah... thanks. I'll go back in the morning once we've both had time to cool off..." he shifted a bit and looked to Noah. "Let me make up for the rude greeting earlier?" he asked, ducking his head slightly and looking through his long eyelashes.

That look went straight to Noah's dick, the appendage giving a happy little twitch at the thought. "You don't... have to-"

"But I want to..." Kurt purred, shifting and straddling the taller's lap. Gently, he pushed him back to lay on the bed, following him down and pressing his lips to Puck's. No matter how many people he'd kissed, Puck had yet to find someone that kissed quite as thouroughly as Kurt. They stole his breath, intoxicating him and making him drunk on everything that was sensual and sexual.

He let out a low moan as he felt a tug at his pants, the button being undone and the zipper lowered. Seconds later, a hand was slipped into his briefs, wrapping around Puckasaurus and giving a solid and tantalizingly rough stroke. Another groan escaped Noah's throat, his lips parting as he felt Kurt's tongue slip between his lips and gently stroke against his own. Damned that tongue piercing... another moan sounded and Kurt's hand picked up a steady rhythm.

Puck gasped for air, his breathing slowly becoming ragged and shallow the longer Kurt worked at his task of thouroughly milking him. He was easily getting lost in the feel of Kurt's hands on him. He was just on the peak of climax when something changed. The hand on his cock was no longer warm. Cold slowly surrounded Puckasaurus, steadily dropping below body temperature until it felt like ice was wrapped around him. He gasped again, noting the change above him as well. His gaze snapped open and he looked up, his eyes widening before he let out a startled yelp.

Kurt blinked and pulled back, squeaking as he was shoved roughly back into the head board. "Fuck! Noah! What the hell?" he snapped, sitting up and glaring at the other.

Noah shook his head. "Dude you're... you're cold..."

"What?" Kurt asked, frowning and looking at the other as if he was insane.

"Your hands! They were freezing!" Noah tried again, grabbing Kurt's hand only to pause. It was warm... He blinked a few times and froze.

Kurt studied him a moment. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"I-... I don't... yeah... probably..." Puck muttered, frowning a bit more as he thought it over. _I could have sworn his hands were like ice…_ he thought.

Sighing, Kurt shook his head. "What ever... do you want me to finish you off? Or would you prefer I helped you make supper?"

"Uh... Supper's... good..." Noah muttered, mechanically standing and leading the way down to his kitchen, Kurt following close behind.

_Maybe I just need more sleep...?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is Drama Setter by Eminem


	5. 4: Just a Dream

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the Fourth**

**Just a Dream**

Puck could be considered a drastically simple man if one were to look at merely the surface. He was the classic teenaged bully in high school. He had the hair, the look, the talk, the walk, the attitude. Everything was perfect for him. At least until he and the law interacted. Then he landed himself in unsavory situations like his current predicament.

Honestly, the meds were beginning to become a pain. And worse, he seemed to be addicted to them slightly. He'd tried skipping a dosage last night and hadn't been able to sit still until he'd given in and gone to take his pill for the night.

It was depressing as much as it was disgusting. A week on this shit and already his body was telling him he needed it. The sad part? He didn't feel any different. If anything, he was more aggressive than he'd ever been. Why just this morning, he'd singled out jew-fro and gave him a swirly for being in the same hallway as him.

Shaking his head, he turned his gaze to the blond beside him and frowned. Kurt was studying his medication with a look of intense focus that was almost creepy. Glancing up at the teacher, Puck coughed to cover up his quick job of tearing out a piece of paper. He was ignoring the lecture anyway. Honestly, who gave a shit whether or not Hamlet decided "to be" or "not to be". Yawn. Instead, he scribbled a quick message before it passing it over to the other. Might as well take this time to get an idea of what was going on with the other.  
After all, Monday had been pretty fucked up regardless of whether or not they had counseling or not. Kurt had been acting off all week. Being in school made it hard for Puck to corner the other and interrogate him like he wanted to, but he knew that wouldn't work with Kurt. If anything, that'd get him a steel toed boot in the crotch.

Gonna tell me what was up with you Monday? - P

Not too direct, and open ended just in case he was being too daring. Puck watched as Kurt shot him a look before he mimed opening the note to the blond. With a roll of those surprisingly dull blue eyes, Kurt heaved a sigh and opened it as directed.

There was a pause. A snort and another look. Another attempt at charades on Puck's behalf. Finally a response. The note hit him in the side of the head and he blinked. Of course Kurt would wad it up and throw it at him. Why had he expected anything less? The one time he tries to worry about the other and Puck surprisingly ends up the mature one.

Your mom. - K

Yup... real mature, Kurt. Sighing, Puck tried again.

Real mature, ass hole. I'm being serious. I've been silent all week and you haven't said a word. - P

I thought it was witty. And you ever think it's because I don't want to tell you? - K

Amusement was clear in Kurt's expression as he slipped the note back. Honestly, could this kid be anymore frustrating? _…. best not to answer that question._ Puck thought dryly to himself. _It's scary enough that I'm acting like the adult right now.._

Hummel, I'm being serious. - P

So am I. Your mom. Monday night. All week. Your sister wanted to join in too. - K

This was getting old fast. Puck's patience was being tested.

Watch it before I beat your skinny gay ass. And stop deflecting! - P

But it's soooo~ much fun.. ^^ - K

Oh... that skinny as fuck gay boy was gonna get it when he got the chance. There was a dumpster with Kurt's name written all over it in flashing neon lights. Hell there were even a few show tunes playing just for the occasion. Not to mention the fluffy pink shag carpet inside... ok, that was creepy image. And a little gay, even for Kurt.

With a soft growl, Puck scribbled out his reply. He knew his handwriting was getting sloppier due to his temper. He could barely decipher his own reply seconds after writing it.

Damn it, Kurt! - P

Some one's frustrated~! - K

Music notes.

Fucking…

Music…

Notes…

He was done. He could feel his eye twitching and he refused to waste another second with this obviously futile attempt. Crumpling up the piece of paper, he tossed it into the trash across the room and scoring. _Goodbye pitiful attempts at being a good friend... you were a valiant hope all in vain…_

Of course that had to be when the teacher looked up.

"You have legs, Mr. Puckerman. Use them." The woman and her beak like nose growled. _Funny... that thing sorta resembles Rachel Berry's…_

"What ever, Teach..." he muttered, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. He was so done with this…

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

If there was one thing that perplexed Noah Puckerman, it was Blaine Anderson. Never, in his entire life, had he ever met someone like Blaine. The new kid. The kid that was in counseling with them. The kid charged with assault. And he had no doubt in his mind that that kid had not needed a deadly weapon to aid him. How could he tell? Easy.

He had gym with the short teen.

Currently, Puck was watching from the corner of his eye as they changed for class. It may have seemed really gay to a lot of kids in the school, but no one messed with Puck. If anything, they would think he was scoping out his next victim to find the fastest and most sure fire way to rip him apart emotionally. It was what he was good at after all. Truth be told, however, he was trying to puzzle out what had caused this teen to catch Kurt's interest.  
He was a bully, not blind. He'd noticed Kurt's gaze drifting to the raven haired teen when he thought no one else was looking. He'd caught the blond's thoughts focused on Blaine one too many times for it to be innocent curiosity. He recalled Kurt mentioning his most recent dumpster dive on Monday and how the other teen had helped him out of the steel prison. Sure it was reason enough to be curious, but for it to have held Kurt's attention like it had... there was something else he was missing…

That was when Blaine took his shirt off.

"Damn, Anderson!" Puck stated without thinking, silently thanking any holy power listening that no one but he and the other teen had been in the locker room right then to witness that.

Blaine jumped and spun around, eyes wide as he looked to Puck. "E-excuse me?" His voice slightly higher pitched in his panic. Kind of like Kurt's when the other teen was caught off guard and ready to bolt. _Except his doesn't send all the dogs within a three mile radius into a frenzy…_ Puck mused to himself.

"Chill dude..." Puck laughed, snorting once. "Just startled me a bit with the guns you're packin..." he added, nodding to the teen's body. Blaine blinked a few times and looked down at himself.

Oh…

_Oh…_

"I was on the boxing team... back at Dalton..." Blaine replied, shrugging a bit and quickly grabbing a shirt as if self-conscious.

Puck studied him a moment and nodded. "I see... you're just... so quiet I didn't expect it... then again, considering what you're doing here I think I should have..." he commented, turning back to his own locker and dropping his pants.

Blaine shifted uneasily for a moment. "Yeah... Noa-"

"Puck." he corrected.

"Right... Puck... are you and Kurt dating?"

 _Whoa... Where the hell had that come from?_ Puck asked himself as he looked over to the teen, a brow raised incredulously. Honestly the sight should have been comical, a mostly naked Puck standing over a short Blaine with a look that most would shy away from. And the teen just swallowed and kept his gaze steady on Puck's eyes. He had to hand it to him. Blaine had some serious balls. _That or else he's just really stupid…_

"I'm sorry... what?" he asked, tilting his head a bit.

Blaine hesitated before repeating himself. "Are you and Kurt dating? I'm sorry- it's just... after counseling Monday I walked into the boys bathroom nearest the choir room and..." his voice trailed off.

Puck blinked a few times as he thought back to it. Monday... boys bathroom closest to the choi- _Oh…_ He laughed. Blaine looked slightly panicked, almost worried if he'd have to run and get someone. Afraid that Puck was having a mental breakdown. He snorted and decided to ease the other's fears.

"Shit, naw. Honestly, I get the impression that I'm more his booty call than he is mine. Kurtie's more like an annoying twin brother than anything else. We just have an agreement that happens to involve him dropping his pants, spreading his legs and grabbing his ankles while I fuck him senseless... call it his little escape from reality if you want..."

Blaine was silent a moment, letting it sink in. "...Brothers?" he asked in confusion. "So... you're saying that screwing your sibling is normal in your family?"

Puck considered this and had to agree. So maybe brothers hadn't been the best example he could have given. So sue him. "Never said it was perfect. We're more dysfunctional than anything... emphasis on they dys."

"I see..."

Puck hummed and studied Blaine a bit more. "Hn... now see, what confuses me... is just why you've captured little Kurtie's interest... it's odd really." he mused aloud, now dressed in his gym clothes. Crossing his arms and leaning against the lockers behind him. "Kurtie doesn't do anything but one night stands and booty calls... with you he watches you different... not that it's a bad thing... but I'll tell you now, you hurt my boy," he paused here and stepped closer, pushing Blaine roughly against the lockers and getting in his face. "And I will personally... make your life a living hell..." He shoved him back once more and made his way towards the door, smirking over his shoulder. "Have fun!" he tossed back, the door slamming shut behind him.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

The photo was old, wrinkled slightly, and well loved. There were a few water marks around the edges where tears had fallen before they could be brushed away. It was a simple image, but it was the only one he had of them.

It was of three people. A younger Noah stood to the left slightly, an arm wrapped around the teen girl beside him. She was in a hospital bed, her blond hair a slight mess and her eyes tired, but a true smile on her perfect lips. Both were looking down at the small baby bundled in her arms. Their daughter, Beth…

_I was thinking bout her, thinkin bout me_  
 _Thinkin bout us, what we gon' be_  
 _Open my eyes yeah, it was only Just A Dream_  
 _So I travelled back, down that road_  
 _Will she come back, no one knows_  
 _I realize yeah, it was only Just A Dream_

Sniffling slightly, Noah wiped at his eyes and sighed. Of course his ipod would pick this song now of all times. The irony was not wasted on him. He sighed and shook his head. He really needed to stop thinking about Quinn. After all, Beth had been adopted and she'd left him for Finn Hudson of all people. Swallowing, he set the photo aside and let it go.

What they'd had before had been sweet and innocent and... perfect. It had been everything that Noah had wanted. But Quinn had wanted popularity. She'd wanted money. She'd wanted Finn.

_I was thinking bout her, thinkin bout me_  
 _Thinkin bout us, what we gon' be_  
 _Open my eyes yeah, it was only Just A Dream_  
 _So I travelled back, down that road_  
 _Will she come back, no one knows_  
 _I realize yeah, it was only Just A Dream_

Sighing, he carefully placed the photo back into the back of the frame he kept it in. The picture that hid it was one of Kurt at the piercing parlor. His tongue was out and the clamp was tightened, the needle already through and Kurt shooting Noah a look that promised pain soon as he was free. It was sad really... he'd lost Quinn and Beth and filled that hole with the brotherly need to watch out for Kurt and basically take him under wing. Speaking of Kurt...  
He looked at his phone. Not a single one of his texts had been responded to and he was beginning to worry. He was seriously starting to worry. Kurt had been acting odd before he'd left school, sending warning signals off in Noah's mind, but it was something that Puck wouldn't allow to show in public.

The sound of a fist knocking against his front door snapped him out of his thoughts and he blinked. "The hell?" he muttered, getting up and going down the stairs to answer it. _Who could possibly be coming here at this time of night?_ He swung the door open and paused. There before him stood a red eyed and barely held together Kurt Hummel.

_Shit…_

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

There were times in Noah Puckerman's life that he would sit back and silently ask himself how he'd gotten into this mess. He was a good kid for the most part... well, outside of school. Usually. He obeyed the laws of the land as well as the laws laid down in the Jewish religion... unless they didn't agree with his agenda. But all in all, he had never done anything terrible that would cause him to deserve growing up without his dad, being a disappointment, and now this..

His gaze drifted over to where Kurt was asleep on the air mattress beside Noah's own bed. His hair was messed up, flattened on one side and fanned out over his brow from the sweat of a bad dream. His brow was furrowed, his pale skin flushed in fear.

Sighing, Noah shook his head and stood up, making his way to the bathroom. His head was beginning to hurt and he might as well grab an aspirin and relieve himself at the same time.  
Closing the door behind himself, he lifted the lid and seat of the toilet, pulling himself free of his boxers and sighed, mentally ignoring the sound now echoing through the bathroom. Shit he needed to stop drinking so much before bed. Hell, he needed to stop doing much of anything before bed period. He could barely think straight at the moment.

Focusing on what he'd learned today, his frowned as his headache increased. Groaning, he felt a sudden sharp tug at his gut and the base of his spine. He grimaced, feeling the pain. A violent jerk went through his body and he blinked. It was gone.

"...The hell?" he muttered, looking around the bathroom. Nothing had changed. He was still where he had been.. wait, hadn't he been closer to the toilet before? "I seriously need to get more sleep..." he muttered seconds before he realized the warmth spreading over his stocking clad foot. He blinked and looked down. "You've gotta be kidding me..." he muttered, groaning. Just what he needed. A piss covered foot. Yeah... the world hated him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a Dream by Nelly


	6. 5: Man in the Mirror

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the Fifth**

**Man in the Mirror**

Blaine Anderson could truly say he'd never had a week quite like this one. With the shock of the new school system, he found himself desperately wishing he'd been able to stay at Dalton Academy. That, of course, was not a possibility seeing as he'd been permanently kicked out of the school. They meant their 0% tolerance of harassment. Even if it was directed at the wrong person.

He sighed and shook his head. Best not to think like that. After all, he had to survive this year of high school and then he'd, hopefully, be able to transfer elsewhere. If he was lucky. At present, his father wasn't really talking to him since his failed attempts at hooking him up with the daughter of one of his politician friends.

Shutting his locker door, he slipped down the hallway his second to last class of the day. All he had left was AP History and then Gym. He shuddered at the thought of the dreaded day. He preferred when they had Health class, which was usually Mondays and Tuesdays. The other days were all Gym. Fridays, like today, were up in the air, flipping between one or the other every other week. Just his luck it had to be Gym first. At least after these two classes, he'd be done for the day…

He entered the classroom and glanced around, spotting an open seat nearest the window and claiming it. The last thing he wanted was to have to put up with the finding a seat and an awkward conversation of "is this seat taken?". God he hated being the new kid.

Seated, he dug out his textbook and notebook. A pencil was settled on top of the small pile as he shoved his bag down under the desk. A few other students were trickling into the classroom, having escaped the crowded halls for the time being. He just ignored it. Not like it concerned him anymore than their personal issues. He was just here to get through his court ordered counseling and high school.

The chair next to him slid across the floor and Blaine looked up in time to see the blond from his counseling group drop into the seat beside him. Those cold eyes shot a glare at a girl that had been on her way over in hope of talking to the "cute new boy". Silently, Blaine was thankful for the break. Ever since arriving, the hormonal female population had been hanging off of him left and right. At the same time, however, he was panicking. Sure he'd helped the blond out earlier in the week, but that didn't mean he wouldn't kick his ass because of it. After all, he'd been pretty much left well alone by the jock population and it was only a matter of time for one of the punks to take a hit at him. He swallowed nervously. This boy was both stunning and deadly.

Finally, that blue gaze turned to him and Blaine almost whimpered at the look the other was giving him. The gaze was intent, focused on him and only him. He was studying every detail of Blaine he could find and he was analyzing. _Oh god... I'm gonna die! It's only been the first week of classes and I'm gonna die!_

"..Blaine.. right?"

_Why does his voice have to be so beautiful? Oh the irony! This beautiful angelic boy is going to kill me! The last thing I'll ever hear is that melodic voice! Why does the world have to be so cruel?_

"Uh... yeah." He replied, his voice shaky as he offered a weak smile. This seemed to amuse the blond.

"Relax. I'm not gonna do anything to you. Just curious about the new kid is all. Not often we get someone like you..." The blond replied, a small smirk playing across his pierced lips. Blaine blinked. Was he flirting?

"Uh..."

"I'm Kurt... That way you can stop referring to me as 'the blond angel with a melodic voice'." Kurt stated, his smirk growing a bit more.

Blaine paled this time. "That was out loud?"

"Yeah... That was out loud." Kurt replied, shrugging and leaning back in his chair. "Don't worry about it, yeah? It's nicer than everything else I hear around here. So relax. I'm not gonna kill you."

Blaine visibly slouched into his seat with a groan of relief. "Well that was embarrassing..." he muttered.

Kurt just chuckled. "You're cute, Blaine... stay that way." he added before snagging his book bag once more and standing up.

"You're... not staying?" Blaine asked, confused now at the sudden turn of events. Had Kurt really just called him cute?

"Advanced French. I took this class last year." Kurt purred with a wink. "And yes, Anderson. I called you cute. Au revoir!" called over his shoulder before sauntering from the room, his hips swaying tantalizingly.

Blaine watched after him and blinked. And blinked some more. Kurt Hummel had just come in to talk to him? But why the hell would he do that? And then there was the whole conversation that didn't make sense to Blaine. Hell, it hadn't even been much of a conversation. More like Kurt teasing Blaine and flirting with him. And last, but certainly not least, there was the scene he'd walked into on Monday. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't touched himself to the memory of seeing Kurt Hummel spread so submissively. His cheeks colored slightly at the thought and he did his best to push away the memory before he had an embarrassingly obvious problem to deal with.

"So Kurt's talking to you now?" A girl's voice sounded beside him. Snapping out of his daydream, Blaine jerked his head up to look at the once again occupied chair beside him. Coffee brown eyes and straightened brown hair. A hideous animal sweater. Rachel Berry.

"...Hi?" he asked. What the hell was going on? All week he'd been pretty much ignored, which he was happy about, and now suddenly Kurt Hummel and Rachel Berry are talking to him within the same ten minutes. He was just a little weirded out.

"Hi! You're Blaine Anderson. The new student. You're also in my counseling group. I saw that Kurt Hummel was talking to you and just thought I'd come over and make sure you knew to keep away from him. He's nothing but trouble. He's been arrested so many times the cops already know him by voice. Not that it's hard. He has a very distinctive counter tenor voice that most people on Broadway would kill for."

Blaine just stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes wide as he listened to her continue to ramble. _How the hell could she keep talking? Was she even breathing?_

"Though he's no where near as good as me. I'm going to be the next Barbra Streisand. But anyway, Kurt's trouble. We used to be best friends and then his mom died and he stopped talking to people. And then when he came out as gay I tried to be friends with him again but then his dad had his heart attack and started dating and Kurt did a complete 180. He started talking more and more to that Puck and then he dyed his hair and got the piercings. All of his fashionable clothing disappeared and was replaced by the crap that he wears now and he started to listen to grunge rock and-"

"If you would open your books to page 394, we could begin..." their teacher drawled, a bored look on his face as he entered the room. Blaine had never been so glad in his life to see a teacher than he was at that moment.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

If there was one person that scared Blaine more than Kurt it was Noah Puckerman. The jock was not only on the football team (or had been), but he was also the resident bad-ass. He'd heard plenty of talk about the mo-hawked teen and he had every plan to stay out of the other's sights. He just wanted to get through life and be done with this hell they called high school. He, sadly, was not that lucky.

Changing in Gym class, he ignored the presence of Puck near him and stripped off his shirt. The plan was to get changed and get out quickly. The fact that there were no witnesses to his potential beating spurred him on.

"Damn, Anderson!" Puck's voice ripped through the delusion that he was going to be home free and startled Blaine. He jumped and turned around to face the other, his heart beating frantically.

"E-excuse me?" he asked. _Oh god... my voice is squeaking…_ he mentally groaned.

Puck laughed, going back to his own locker. "Chill dude, just startled me a bit with the guns you're packin..."

Guns? Blaine frowned and looked down at himself for a moment before it dawned on him. Oh.. "I was on the boxing team... back at Dalton."

"I see... you're just... so quiet I didn't expect it... then again, considering what you're doing here I think I should have..."

Blaine hummed, studying the other in thought for a moment. Well now was a good chance to find out a little about Monday... now that he knew he wasn't about to murdered.

"Yeah... Noa-"

"Puck." The other corrected. Right. No one called him Noah. No one, but Kurt.

"Right... Puck... are you and Kurt dating?"

 _Oh god, I'm a dead man…_ Blaine panicked, noting how Puck suddenly went rigid and looked to Blaine. He knew that look. He was terrified of that look. Did he show it? Blaine hadn't a clue.

"I'm sorry... what?" Puck asked, tilting his head a bit.

Blaine swallowed his nerves. _Well, if I'm going to die, might as well just make it worthwhile…_ "Are you and Kurt dating?" and immediately he regretted asking. "I'm sorry- it's just... after counseling Monday I walked into the boys bathroom nearest the choir room and..." And now he was rambling. _Way to go, Blaine... now he'll hate you and think you're a freak._

Puck responded the opposite. "Shit, naw. Honestly, I get the impression that I'm more his booty call than he is mine. Kurtie's more like an annoying twin brother than anything else. We just have an agreement that happens to involve him dropping his pants, spreading his legs and grabbing his ankles while I fuck him senseless... call it his little escape from reality if you want..."

_….Did he really just say that? That's fucked up... like, really fucked up…_

Blaine shook his head and forced those thoughts back. "Brothers? So... you're saying that screwing your sibling is normal in your family?"

Puck actually paused here, as if considering his words as well and shrugged. "Never said it was perfect. We're more dysfunctional than anything... emphasis on they dys."

"I see..." Was Blaine could manage. This man made no sense to him. At all. Oh, look. He's talking again…

"Hn... now see, what confuses me... is just why you've captured little Kurtie's interest... it's odd really. Kurtie doesn't do anything but one night stands and booty calls... with you he watches you different... not that it's a bad thing... but I'll tell you now. You hurt my boy," suddenly, Blaine felt the sharp pain of a locker in his back and the pressure of Puck's hand shoving him roughly into the wall of lockers behind him. "And I will personally... make your life a living hell..."

With another rough shove, Puck was no longer in the other's face and sauntering towards the door. He smirked over his shoulder and Blaine could have sworn he saw death in those eyes. "Have fun!"

_Oh yeah... I'm gonna die…_

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

_I'm Gonna Make A Change,_  
 _For Once In My Life_  
 _It's Gonna Feel Real Good,_  
 _Gonna Make A Difference_  
 _Gonna Make It Right . . ._

Blaine sank lower into the tub, ignoring the argument he could hear his father having over the phone just down the hall. It was one of three things, poll ratings, his mistress, or another date for Blaine. He sighed and sank lower into the bubbles surrounding him. He really was getting sick of this. And trying to please his father was getting harder and harder. But he didn't dare talk back. The last time had earned him a hand to the face and he could still feel the sting around his eye from when his father had heard about the arrest charges.  
He shook the thought off and focused on the words of Michael Jackson floating through his bathroom. His anger at his father slowly dissipated as he focused on the song. A slow, easy smile formed. He loved this song.

_"As I, Turn Up The Collar On My_  
 _Favorite Winter Coat_  
 _This Wind Is Blowin' My Mind_  
 _I See The Kids In The Street,_  
 _With Not Enough To Eat_  
 _Who Am I, To Be Blind?_  
 _Pretending Not To See_  
 _Their Needs"_

He started to sing, swaying ever so slightly with the music. He finished with his bath and stood, getting out and wrapping a towel around his waist and moving to empty the tub.

_"A Summer's Disregard,_  
 _A Broken Bottle Top_  
 _And A One Man's Soul_  
 _They Follow Each Other On_  
 _The Wind Ya' Know_  
 _'Cause They Got Nowhere_  
 _To Go_  
 _That's Why I Want You To_  
 _Know"_

He slipped over to the mirror and paused, taking in his reflection. The bruises were fading and his exotic features were once again looking like they always had. It was no mystery why women were so attracted to him. He knew he was handsome. He didn't let it go to his head however. And his father's criticism did miracles for his self esteem... He snorted at the thought, gripping the edge of the clay sink.

His gaze narrowed and he frowned a bit as he scrutinized himself. "Why the hell would anyone really want me?" he asked his reflection. "I'm a screw up... I'm sick and no one would ever want me..." he growled, his anger flaring. The areas around his hands heated suddenly, the temp spiking so quickly that the sink cracked under his hands and the entire front half broke away. With a yelp of shock, Blaine jumped back in time to avoid smashing his feet with the heavy slab of clay as it shattered on his granite flooring.

He stared at the spot wide eyed, breathing heavy. Slowly, he lifted his hands to look at them. Touching his face, they felt cool, normal if not just a little warmer from the bath water. "...Odd..." he muttered, frowning in confusion.

_I'm Starting With The Man In_  
 _The Mirror_  
 _I'm Asking Him To Change_  
 _His Ways_  
 _And No Message Could Have_  
 _Been Any Clearer_  
 _If You Wanna Make The World_  
 _A Better Place_  
 _Take A Look At Yourself, And_  
 _Then Make A Change_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man in the Mirror by Michael Jackson


	7. 6: 9 Crimes

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the Sixth**

**9 Crimes**

Rachel Berry was the star in her fathers' eyes. Both men took so much pride in their young daughter that they doted on her every need and gave her everything she'd ever need. She had everything, the best opportunities her parents could give her and for that she was thankful. If there was one thing, however, that Rachel was it was lonely.

At school she was little more than the outspoken, annoying theater kid that not even the theater clique wanted part of. Her voice was phenomenal, her acting was amazing, but all in all her personality made her a turn off. She knew she was self centered. She tried her hardest to change it, but being an only child with both her dads' undivided attention was enough to counteract all her efforts.

So her shoplifting escapade had been made in a desperate attempt to get attention. She needed someone to reprimand her. She knew that. As well, it brought her a step closer to her onetime best friend. There had only ever been one person that could handle Rachel Berry at one time. That person was Kurt Hummel. Or, more precisely, the person Kurt Hummel used to be. She and the ex-fashionista used to be thicker than thieves and nothing would have been able to come between them. At least, that's what Rachel had thought.

Enter Noah Puckerman.

The teen had turned her entire life upside down in a matter of months and for it Rachel had lost her best friend. He started ignoring her texts and the last straw had been when he'd verbally tore her apart in front of the entire student body for her crush on Finn Hudson. It had been worse than being slushied on a daily basis.

So sitting in one of her last classes of the day, Rachel easily picked out the figure of Kurt sauntering into the room. She frowned, looking up at the clock. He didn't have this class. He'd taken it the previous year because of his accelerated test scores. He should have been in Advanced French.

Her brow furrowed and she traced Kurt's path, eyes widening as she saw him moving over to the brunet boy. She recognized Blaine by face and through their counseling. As far as she knew, he was a quiet boy that wanted very little to do with anyone in their school. She didn't exactly blame him.

Blaine looked like he'd just about wet himself once he found Kurt sitting beside him. They exchanged a few words, Kurt's smirk growing into something that resembled the cat that had caught the mouse. Rachel could feel the dread settling deep in her gut. She knew that look. Kurt had had it seconds before ripping into her and ruining everything about herself she'd ever liked.

Kurt stood and smirked over his shoulder as he left, tossing out a comment about Blaine being cute before he left. Rachel watched him leave before she looked over to Blaine. The boy seemed dazed. Again, she didn't really blame him. Standing, she made the snap decision to go and sit by him. She had to warn him.

Slipping into the seat, she set her things out. "So Kurt's talking to you now?" She asked, tilting her head and looking to Blaine.

He seemed to take a moment to look her over, an expression of confusion crossing his slightly bruised face. "...Hi?"

Rachel grinned, glad she'd gotten him to at least greet her. "Hi! You're Blaine Anderson. The new student. You're also in my counseling group. I saw that Kurt Hummel was talking to you and just thought I'd come over and make sure you knew to keep away from him. He's nothing but trouble. He's been arrested so many times the cops already know him by voice. Not that it's hard. He has a very distinctive counter tenor voice that most people on Broadway would kill for." Rachel started.

Blaine just watched her, his eyes widening the more she talked, almost like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. She knew that look. Most people gave it to her when they were trying to figure out if she was crazy or not. Then they stopped talking to her.  
"Though he's no where near as good as me. I'm going to be the next Barbra Streisand. But anyway, Kurt's trouble. We used to be best friends and then his mom died and he stopped talking to people. And then when he came out as gay I tried to be friends with him again but then his dad had his heart attack and started dating and Kurt did a complete 180. He started talking more and more to that Puck and then he dyed his hair and got the piercings. All of his fashionable clothing disappeared and was replaced by the crap that he wears now and he started to listen to grunge rock and-"

She was cut off as the teacher entered the room, commanding their attention once more. Sighing heavily, she slumped further into her seat and opened her page to the indicated number. Well, at least she'd gotten a chance to warn Blaine.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Rachel didn't get the chance to talk to Blaine much during or after class. Soon as the bell had run, he was up and out of his chair. It amazed her how fast some people could move when they wanted to get away from her. As much as it hurt her, it awed her as well.

Sighing, she dragged her book bag into the girl's bathroom with the intent of just skipping. Today was a day she really didn't want to go to gym class. Not to face Noah Puckerman. He'd just insult her sense of fashion again. She liked how she dressed. She thought it was cute. Besides, the only person who could have given her criticisms about her wardrobe and tried to help improve it, was likely skipping his last class to go have a smoke under the school bleachers. She shook her head. Rachel knew she needed to stop thinking about it.

A soft sob caught her attention and she paused, looking further into the bathroom. "...Hello?" she called, stepping further in and checking the stalls. It fell silent for a few minutes. Rachel was starting to think she'd just imagined it until one of the stall doors opened.

Santana Lopez stepped out into the main room and ran a hand along her cheeks to wipe away the residue from tears. "The hell do you want, frumpy?" the Latina snapped, her dark brown eyes narrowing dangerously.

Rachel blinked, eyes widening in shock as she stepped back. "N-nothing! I just.. came in here for a bit of quiet and I heard someone crying so-"

"I wasn't crying!" she snapped once more, advancing on Rachel.

"I never said you were!" Rachel stated, trying to defend herself. Santana stopped mere inches from her, her lips pressed together in a tight line and her eyes narrowed with the intent to cause harm. She studied Rachel for a moment before shaking her head and stalking away and to the sinks.

Rachel let out a shaky breath, feeling herself slowly calm after her fear started to die down. Santana scared the living daylights out of her. She would willingly admit it. The Latina was known to carry razor blades in her hair and Rachel wasn't fond of the idea of discovering whether or not that rumor was true.

She did, however, take this chance to look Santana over a bit closer. The girl looked like shit. Her clothes were wrinkled, the black corset ripped slightly around the bust, as if someone had grabbed it and pulled. Her black jacket was creased, wrinkled slightly and dust covered it. Santana's normally tightly tied back hair was sticking out of the ponytail in a few places, giving her an almost wild look. Grass stains and a few mud streaks covered her pants and Rachel's frown deepened as she noticed the darkening bruise around the taller girl's neck.  
Everyone knew about Santana's boyfriend. Rafael Ramirez was one of the star football players alongside Finn Hudson and was especially known for his short temper. It didn't take much to notice the violent way he tended to watch Santana. After all, she had a record with the male population of the school. Seeing the bruise, she knew where it came from.

"...You could do much better, you know..." Rachel stated softly.

Santana paused, the hand holding the eyeliner at the ready freezing mid air. Slowly, coffee brown eyes settled on the shorter brunet.

"Excuse me?" Santana asked, growling softly. "You saying I'm not good enough?"

"No! No that's not..." Rachel sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "That's not what I meant... I mean.. you deserve a lot more than what he does to you... you may not be the nicest to me, Santana, but I'm pretty sure you're a beautiful person when you smile..."

Santana looked Rachel over, seemingly stunned for a moment before she regained herself. "You don't know me and you don't know Rafael. Do us a favor and take your abnormally large beak and keep it out of our business." she snapped, stuffing her eyeliner in her bag before grabbing it and stomping from the bathroom. The door fell shut with a final thud causing Rachel to wince. She really needed to learn how to keep her mouth shut.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

The house was silent once Rachel got home. She was glad for it. The day had been nothing short of hell and all she wanted was to take a hot bath and read Wicked. Making her way into her room, she tossed her book bag down on her bed and kicked off her shoes. Music. She needed music.

Plugging her ipod into the docking station, she pressed play and let it go to a random song.

_Leave me out with the waste_  
 _This is not what I do_  
 _It's the wrong kind of place_  
 _To be thinking of you_  
 __It's the wrong time  
 _For somebody new_  
 _It's a small crime_  
 _And I've got no excuse_

She smiled softly as the song filtered through. It always made her think about Finn. Honestly, she wasn't sure why she liked him so much. Maybe it was his popularity? Or his smile? Or that dopey look he got on his face whenever he was confused? Or maybe it was because he'd been the only person to ever show Rachel a bit of kindness outside of Kurt.

Sighing, she shook her head and made her way over to her dresser. Stripping off her sweater and shirt, she discarded the clothing into the clothes basket before doing the same with her skirt and leggings. Standing there in a bra and underwear, she turned to her mirror and looked herself over.

_Is that alright?_   
_Give my gun away when it's loaded_   
_Is that alright?_   
_If you don't shoot it how am I supposed to hold it_   
_Is that alright?_   
_Give my gun away when it's loaded_   
_Is that alright_   
_With you?_

Rachel's frown deepened. She was so average. It was no wonder no boy had ever taken an interest in her. Running a hand over her body, she cupped her small breasts for a second before sliding them down her sides and to her small hips. She was far from that desirable girl.  
Finn would never look at her in the way she wanted him to. Not with her nose and her plain looks. Not when he had Quinn Fabray. The star cheerleader of the school and the model perfect woman.

_Leave me out with the waste_   
_This is not what I do_   
_It's the wrong kind of place_   
_To be cheating on you_   
_It's the wrong time_   
_She's pulling me through_   
_It's a small crime_   
_And I've got no excuse_

She swallowed and looked away from the mirror. She couldn't look at herself anymore. Not tonight. The words of insults echoed through her head. The worst of all sounding like Kurt Hummel's voice cutting through the rest.

_"You're embarrassing yourself, Rachel. And frankly, you're embarrassing me to be associated with you. What does it say when the gay boy of the school can get more ass than a girl in a homophobic town like Lima? God you're such a joke..."_

_"You done yet? Cause the rest of us would like to get into our class room before you scare the teacher off with your desperate stench."_

_"Still haven't gotten a chest, Berry? Pity. Ah well, we could always cut your hair and dress you like a guy. At least then you and your gorilla hands might stand a chance at getting laid."_

Tears pricked her eyes and she let out a shuddering breath. She used to value Kurt's opinion. She always used to beg for his final critique about her appearance. And he used to give it and help her. Now all he did was use it against her. And even still, she valued his opinion. Right now, she wanted nothing more than her best friend back. More than she wanted Finn Hudson to like her.

_Is that alright?_   
_I give my gun away when it's loaded_   
_Is that alright?_   
_If you don’t shoot it, how am I supposed to hold it_   
_Is that alright?_   
_I give my gun away when it's loaded_   
_Is that alright_   
_Is that alright with you?_

A tug started at her back, along the middle of her spine. Almost as if it had started in her gut. She ignored it, writing it off to self loathing. It came again, harder this time. Blinking, Rachel unwrapped her arms around herself and looked down at her body in confusion. "What...?" she started before her whole body convulsed. She gasped, crying out softly before she fell to the floor. Her body continued to convulse for a few seconds before it stopped suddenly and Rachel gasped for air.

Something wasn't right. Her chest felt heavier, her breathing more strained. She blinked a few times, slowly rolling over and sitting up. Why did she feel taller? And why did her body ache? _What's wrong with me?_ She mused, slowly getting to her feet. Taking that moment, she looked down and paled. Her nails were black. Her skin was no longer the usual slightly tanned complexion she had naturally, but instead a unique pale color almost like porcelain. She looked closer at herself. Her body was no longer feminine, but decidedly male. Hesitantly, she lifted her gaze to her mirror.

"Oh god..." she stated in shock, dread filling her voice. Instead of herself staring back, she was instead met with the blue green gaze of one Kurt Hummel.

_Is that alright?_   
_I give my gun away when it's loaded_   
_Is that alright?_   
_If you don't shoot it, how am I supposed to hold it_   
_Is that alright?_   
_If I give my gun away when it's loaded_   
_Is that alright_   
_Is that alright with you?_   
_Is that alright?_   
_Is that alright?_   
_Is that alright with you?_   
_Is that alright?_   
_Is that alright?_   
_Is that alright with you?_   
_No…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9 Crimes by Damien Rice


	8. 7: Criminal

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the Seventh**

**Criminal**

Santana Lopez was what most people would call a lost cause. Her reputation of school slut had earned her more than enough hate within the student body and she liked it that way. She could get what she wanted and not have to worry about getting to close to someone. That was how things worked for her. At least they had until she'd met Rafael Ramirez. The one man she slept with that wouldn't let her go. And he made it worth her while. In dating him, she gained popularity and the status of head bitch.

And Santana Lopez liked it that way.

With this deal, however, came Rafael's explosive temper and possessiveness. He was sweet for the most part, treating Santana like a queen, but if she dared do something he didn't like…

She sighed and shook her head, shifting in her chair in class. Honestly she could have fallen asleep easily if it weren't for Finn Hudson's heavy breathing beside her. She just wanted to strangle him, but doing that to her boyfriend's best friend? Not a good idea.

Instead, Santana took to tapping her pencil against the desk, head resting in her hand as she stared boredly at the white board. This was so the last place she wanted to be…

Beside her, Finn shifted a bit uneasily, looking around the room as if paranoid. Rolling her eyes she shifted a bit in her seat and yawned.

_The hell is frankenteen doing now?_ She thought to herself with a snort. Finn's gaze snapped to her and she lifted a brow. _The hell is his problem? Probably farted and trying to see if anyone noticed…_

Finn's cheeks colored slightly at this, a mortified (for him) expression crossing his features as he looked straight ahead at the board once more.

Sighing, Santana was getting bored. She couldn't handle this much longer. Looking to the clock out of the corner of her eye, she mentally groaned. _Well now what? God... I could be getting laid right now…_ she mused, smirking a bit as an image of what her and Rafael had done just this morning in in the boy's locker room.

_God he's so sexy... specially that little mole right under his left nipple... so cute!_ She giggled mentally, her nose scrunching up a bit as she pictured her boyfriend's body. Beside her, Finn shifted a bit. Santana frowned. _Give it a rest, frankendork... no one cares if you ripped ass in class. Smells better than most the kids in this student body when they try to think... and that's saying something._

Huffing a bit, she went back to her visualizing, letting the images get more and more graphic. At least this way she could entertain herself for the rest of the class period and just skip next to relieve a bit of tension.

Finn shifted a bit more. It was right around Santana imagining how she'd swallow around Rafael's cock when Finn suddenly shot up and knocked his chair over, breaking her train of thought. _The hell?_

"Mr Hudson?" The teacher growled, gaze narrowing.

"I have to go to the bathroom..." Finn stuttered out before nearly running from the classroom. Santana blinked for a moment, looking after him.

_...Well that was fucked up…_

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

"Where the hell have you been?" came over the other end of the phone. Santana rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to hang up on him.

"I was in class, baby..." Santana tried, keeping her voice soft and loving, trying to calm him down. A snort came from the other end and she gritted her teeth. In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, she could see the growing bruise from her earlier mistake. Frowning, she ignored it as she assessed her clothing. She was going to need to do repairs once she got home. But first she needed to find a way to work around her mother... maybe she could over to Brittney's? The girl was always willing to have her over.

God she couldn't deal with this.

"Where are you right now?" Rafael demanded, growling a bit.

"No where. Look, I gots ta go. I can't be late for class cause of the court order." Santana tried, silently pleading that he'd let it go. She knew he wouldn't though. Rafael just wasn't that type of guy.

"We're not done here, Santana. I want you over at mine after school."

"But, my nana-"

"Your nana can go to hell, Santana. What's more important? Pleasing your family? Or pleasing your boyfriend?"

Santana frowned. "You can't make me choose..."

"You don't show up, you don't love me. You don't show up, we're done." He growled. She could hear him gripping his phone tighter. Santana flinched.

"I'll be there..." she promised, swallowing thickly through her own self loathing. Why did she always give into this?

"Good girl. Love you."

"L-love you too..." Santana managed, swallowing as she hung up. Biting back tears, she made her way into a stall, locking the door behind her and letting out a few strangled sobs.  
She didn't know how long she'd been in there. It felt like forever to her, but it could have been mere minutes. The sound of the door opening caught her attention, but it was too late, the sob slipped through and she hiccuped slightly, swallowing down her tears.

"...Hello?" a familiarly grating voice called. _Great, just what I need…_

Santana shook her head and brushed her eyes dry, making sure she'd composed herself before she unlocked her stall door and stepped out. Making sure to make an entrance that was her, she turned and glared at Rachel, finding the girl staring at her in shock. Her gaze narrowed.

"The hell do you want, frumpy?" she snapped, growling a bit.

Rachel's eyes widened and she shook her head. "N-nothing! I just.. came in here for a bit of quiet and I heard someone crying so-"

Santana's temper flared and she advanced on the short girl. "I wasn't crying!"

"I never said you were!" Rachel cried out, flinching away as she backed into the wall. Santana mentally smirked. Too easy…

Satisfied that she'd frightened the other, Santana moved away and made her way over to the sink. Digging through her bag, she pulled out her eyeliner and started cleaning herself up. She knew she looked horrible and no way in hell was she going out into the school for the rest of the student body to see her like this.

But, of course, Rachel Berry had to ruin her cool.

"...You could do much better, you know..."

Santana paused, letting the words sink in. She really couldn't deal with this right now, or ever for that matter. Slowly, she turned her gaze to the shorter woman.

"Excuse me?" She asked, her tone taking on an edge. That last comment had hit too close to home for comfort and now she wasn't going to back down without her fangs bared. "You saying I'm not good enough?"

Rachel's eyes widened to a comical proportion. Swallowing, she ran a hand through her hair, frustration beginning to show through. No! No that's not... That's not what I meant... I mean.. you deserve a lot more than what he does to you... you may not be the nicest to me, Santana, but I'm pretty sure you're a beautiful person when you smile..."

Santana was floored. This Hobbit that she had insulted and tortured for the last two years was actually trying to make her feel better? _What the fuck is wrong with this she-man?_ She thought, shaking her head and letting out a growl. "You don't know me and you don't know Rafael. Do us a favor and take your abnormally large beak and keep it out of our business." she snapped, packing her things before booking it out of there.

It was a self defense mechanism and one that she had honed and perfected into a painful knee jerk reaction to anything that could make her feel. Make her soft. She couldn't have that. She refused to be like them. Like all the people with feelings. She refused.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

_He is a hustler_  
 _He's no good at all_  
 _He is a loser, he's a bum, bum, bum, bum_  
 _He lies, he bluffs_  
 _He's unreliable._  
 _He is a sucker with a gun, gun, gun, gun_

It was raining again as Santana made her way down the streets of Lima Heights. Honestly, she was used to the dirty streets and run down buildings. People leered at her, but stayed away. She's proven she could hold her own and they knew not to mess with her. That and they knew her boyfriend's reputation. That was likely the main reason she was left alone.  
She tried to ignore it, focusing more on the stinging feeling in her neck. The bruise there was now accompanied by a double, making her neck ache and her throat hurt every time she spoke.

She'd been right. She knew he wasn't going to let her off easy. She knew she was going to leave with a new bruise to add to her growing collection.

That wasn't the only part that ached.

_I know you told me_  
 _I should stay away._  
 _I know you said_  
 _He's just a dog astray._  
 _He is a bad boy with a tainted heart_  
 _And even I know this ain't smart_

Whimpering, she shifted how she walked. Her pelvis ached and her thighs burned with every step she took. He'd been rough with her and she was sorely regretting going to his house. If she hadn't at least she'd be done with this mess.

But then she wouldn't have it made. Her school status would go back to slut, but in all retrospect, she had a feeling she'd be happier.

But she knew she couldn't. It'd be like amputating an arm and leg. She needed him now.

_But mama I'm in love with a criminal_  
 _And this type of love_  
 _Isn't rational, it's physical_  
 _Mama please don't cry  
 _I will be alright_  
 _All reasons aside_  
 _I just can't deny_  
 _Love the guy__

Sniffling, Santana wiped at her eyes and looked around her. No one was around. Finding a spot in a deserted car park, she sat down and glared at the few cars left there. She hated her life. And she hated Rafael even more. 

So why did she love him? 

_He is a villain of the devil's law_  
 _He is a killer just for fun, fun, fun, fun_  
 _That man's a snitch and unpredictable,_  
 _He's got no conscious_  
 _He got none, none, none, none_

He was horrible to her. Treated her like shit. And for what? Because she dressed in the wrong color? He was making her life hell and she was close to snapping. She could feel it. She couldn't sit still anymore. Her skin didn't feel right on her body and it felt like something was always crawling just beneath the surface, making her itch. 

She hated it. 

_All I know, should let go, but no_  
 _'cause he's a bad boy with a tainted heart_  
 _And even I know this ain't smart_

She let out a ragged sob, her throat beginning to hurt even more. She knew she was only a little ways away from losing her voice for a while. Yet all she wanted to do was scream. Her throat started burning. Her eyes blurred. Letting out a soft sob, she drew in a breath… 

And screamed. 

Her voice echoed off the stone walls around her, reverberating before suddenly the windows of the four cars in the car park smashed open, shattering all over the interior and asphalt below. 

Letting out a scream of shock, Santana fell silent, eyes wide as she looked around her. Car alarms blared, her breathing harsh, ragged, and panicked. Hearing sirens in the distance, she stood and grabbed her bag. She needed to get out of there and fast. 

Darting into an alley, she was gone mere seconds before the police cruisers pulled up. 

_But mama i'm in love with a criminal_  
 _And this type of love_  
 _Isn't rational, it's physical_  
 _Mama please don't cry_  
 _I will be alright_  
 _All reasons aside_  
 _I just can't deny_  
 _Love the guy_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Criminal by Britney Spears


	9. 8: Psycho

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the Eighth**

**Psycho**

Finn Hudson's day started like any other day. His alarm went off, he hit the snooze button and slept for another five minutes before it went off another time. This continued for a few more alarms before he finally managed to look at the clock and drag his ass out of bed. He always managed to do so before his mother finally lost patience and went up to go get him. Next, he would go and shower, walking back to his room stark naked and dripping water all over the carpet between the bathroom, the hall, and his room. There, he would stand in front of his dresser for all of fifteen minutes, staring blankly at the clothes he had to chose from. Finally, when the chill had gotten to him, he'd piece together an outfit, having to do the smell check every now and then on his shirt or pants of choice. Once dressed, he'd go down to the kitchen where he'd find his mother making breakfast. This is exactly what he did.

He yawned and entered the kitchen, eyes closed. He knew the layout of their house by heart now.

"Morning, Finn." Carole greeted, grinning at her son. About time he moved. _I swear that boy is going to be late for his own funeral at this rate…_

Finn smiled and nodded before pausing. He looked back at his mother a moment before shaking it off and going to dish himself a plate of food. He was probably imagining it, but he could have sworn he'd heard his mother say something else. He shrugged and let it go. Must have been imagining things.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

It had to have been a very off day for Finn because the second he stepped foot into school he started catching odd snippets of conversation. It was odd though, no one responded to these comments. It worried him.

_Wow... that dress totally makes her ass look fat…_

_I wonder if he knows I boned his girl last night? Ah well... who cares? Not like we did!_

_Did I remember to put on deodorant today?_

_I wonder if Lord Tubbington is reading my diary right now…_

_Shit.._

_Oh my god! It's Finn Hudson! Act. Normal. Rachel._

He paused at this one, turning to give the girl an odd look., eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. _What was going on?_ She just paused and looked back at him sheepishly, offering a small confused smile as her eyes darted back and forth. Shaking his head, he left before she could say anything else.

Quickly he made his way through the halls and into his first class. It was going to be a very long day. He could just tell.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

The comments hadn't stopped. At all. And it was getting later in the day. Finn, quite frankly, was beginning to freak out. And not in the good way.

He shifted uneasily in his seat, finding it difficult to pay any attention in class. Beside him, Santana was tapping her pencil annoyingly. It was only adding to his already growing stress and he knew it wasn't going to end well. All around him he could hear a soft buzzing sound that occasionally formed into words and even sentences. It creeped him out when he caught one that sounded like the teacher.

_Dude... she's like... so hot. I would so totally pop a boner for that old hag... oh wait... already did._

_I can't believe this bitch is making us do this lesson. It's total bull shit._

_I hate teenagers... They smell horrible and they act worse. Sometimes I just wish I could bring a club to school and bash their skulls in-_

Finn's eyes widened and he glanced around the room nervously. Why was no one else hearing this!

_The hell is frankenteen doing now?_ Santana's voice cut in, an annoyed sigh sounding. _The hell is his problem? Probably farted and trying to see if anyone noticed…_

Finn's cheeks flared and blood rushed to his face. Oh GC. Was she really saying this? He couldn't believe it. Shifting uneasily, he glanced at her, paling as her next comment reached him.

_Well now what? God... I could be getting laid right now…_

Her mouth hadn't opened.

Her lips hadn't moved.

She hadn't spoken.

_Oh Grilled Cheesus... I'm hearing people's thoughts... I'm reading their freakin' minds!_

Finn mentally panicked, trying to block out Santana's crude thoughts. He was even starting to get mental images along with the voices.

_God he's so sexy... specially that little mole right under his left nipple... so cute!_

Grilled Cheesus he didn't need to know what her and his best friend got up to. He really didn't. His mild panic attack must have caught Santana's attention because her thoughts shifted focus and turned to him once more.

_Give it a rest, frankendork... no one cares if you ripped ass in class. Smells better than most the kids in this student body when they try to think... and that's saying something._

Oh no... she was thinking about him again! No! He couldn't take this. He stood up, knocking his chair over and drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He blushed a bit at the sudden attention, the teacher turning to glare at him.

"Mr. Hudson?" Her eyes narrowed and Finn gulped.

"I have to go to the bathroom..." he managed to squeak out, bolting from the room and taking his things with him.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_   
_Who is the schizophrenic psycho, yeah_   
_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_   
_Who is the schizophrenic psycho_

Finn shifted uneasily, groaning a bit as he tried to hide from the world. He could still hear them. All of them. Always talking. Always thinking. His ipod didn't even block it out and it was beginning to dig under his skin. Then again, maybe his song choice didn't exactly aid in that. This was beginning to get ridiculous. Currently, he was curled up in his room, ignoring the sounds of his mother and her friends down stairs in the living room. All outside noise was blocked out. All except for their thoughts.

_She really looks tired…_

_I wonder how she's been dealing with her son…_

_Such a disappointment…_

_Who would have known that Carol's son would have been a criminal? Poor woman...  
I hope Finn's doing alright. I feel bad about leaving him to himself today... he came home looking distressed…_

He closed his eyes and bit back a groan of pain. He was starting to get a headache from all the voices.

_She lays down on the fresh lawn_   
_She can make everything magical_   
_But she tied one on big time_   
_And it makes me wanna rewind_   
_To back in the days when we were young_   
_When everything was like a loaded gun_   
_Ready to go off at any minute_   
_And you know we're gonna win again_

Scratch that. This song was giving him a headache. He sighed and glared at his ipod. He needed a break. But he really liked this song. He was losing his mind. That was the only explanation here. He groaned, rolling over onto his stomach and burying his face in his pillow.

_Yeah, you know we're gonna win again_   
_Yeah, you know we're gonna win again_   
_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_   
_Who is the schizophrenic psycho, yeah_   
_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_   
_Who is the paranoid psycho_   
_She lays down on the sidewalk_   
_Never very analytical_   
_She is something simply beautiful_   
_Reappear when you feel magical_

The lyrics echoed in his head, bouncing around in his skull and mixing with the continuous stream from downstairs.

Why couldn't he just be normal? Life used to be good for him. His dad had been alive. His mother had been happy. He'd had a real family. And then the war rolled around his dad just had to play hero and get himself shot.

A bitter pit of anger settled in his gut and he growled, the sound muffled by his pillow. His father had abandoned them. And for it he was considered a hero.

_To back in the days when we were young_   
_When everything was like a loaded gun_   
_Ready to go off at any minute_   
_Yeah, you know we're gonna win again_   
_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_   
_Who is the schizophrenic psycho, yeah_   
_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_   
_Who is the paranoid psycho_

The voices kept echoing.

He was losing his mind. There no other explanation to it. None. Next thing he'd know he would be waking up restrained in a padded room.

_God he's such a disappointment…_

_God please lead your stray sheep back to the flock... Carole needs all the help she can get…_

_Maybe this wouldn't have happened if his father were around…_

Finn growled once more. He hated these women. And everything they did to his mother. They weren't real friends. They never would be.

_I'm the one, I'm the one_   
_Who is the schizophrenic psycho_   
_I'm the one, I'm the one_   
_Who is the schizophrenic psycho_   
_I'm the one, I'm the one_   
_Who is the schizophrenic psycho_   
_Back in the days when we were young_   
_When everything was like a loaded gun_   
_Ready to go off at any minute_   
_And you know we're gonna win again_

They did nothing but criticize. All his mother's choices. All his mother's opinions. All his mother's faults. And all of his own as well. He hated himself for ruining his mother's life. It was because of him that his father left. It was because of him that she worked extra shifts to pay bills. It was his fault he made his mother's life hell. It was all his fault and now here he was hearing voices.

_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_   
_Who is the schizophrenic psycho, yeah_   
_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_   
_Who is the paranoid psycho_   
_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_  
Who is the schizophrenic psycho, yeah   
_Maybe I'm the one, maybe I'm the one_   
_Who is the paranoid psycho_

Choking out a sob, Finn buried his head deeper into his pillow, wrapping his arms around his head to muffle the sound better. He tried to hard to be what everyone wanted him to be, but he knew he couldn't. He just couldn't. It was too much for him. He was drowning in his own head and no one seemed to notice.

_I'm the one, I'm the one_   
_Who is the schizophrenic psycho_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psycho by Puddle of Mudd


	10. 9: Hello

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the Ninth**

**Hello**

Kurt spent the night at Puck's, the two of them sleeping for the most part. It was odd for the blond to think about. Normally he'd be waking up the next morning hung over and naked. The last time he'd woken up with Puck still in him, his face pressed into the mattress and crick starting in his neck. So, turning and looking over to where Puck was still snoring soundly, Kurt slipped out of bed silently and gathered his pants and shirt, his boxers being tossed aside as he swiped a clean pair from the taller teen and went to go shower. He had to get home.

Stepping into the shower, Kurt turned the water on hot, soaking in the scalding hot feeling of being burned alive as he let his mind wander. The fight from the night previous drifted back into his focus and he inwardly cringed. He was the one killing his dad…

The thought stung, causing him to feel cold on the inside. His chest tightened and he gasped for air, the shock of the truth hitting him hard. Everything he did. Every choice he made. Every person he slept with. It was all hurting his dad and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't change himself. He'd tried. Back when he'd started to change he'd tried so hard to hang onto who he was. Who his dad wanted and needed him to be. But he just couldn't. He wasn't that strong. He was weak and a coward and it was his father paying for it. With his own life.

The wind was sucked from his lungs once more and he gasped, reaching out suddenly to grip the shower door and steady himself. His grip slipped and he fell to his knees, body shaking as the cold he felt spread rapidly into his limbs. He coughed, wheezing as he lifted his blurring gaze enough to catch sight of his breath, the water vapor freezing the closer it got to his skin. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he reached up a shaking hand, his skin tinting an odd blue to the already pale layer. _What the hell was going on? Wasn't the water just hot a second ago?_ He asked himself, panicking too much to calm himself down. His breathing rapidly increased, his chest tightening further and his breathing coming in ragged gasps that failed to fill his lungs enough to keep him supported.

His arms gave out, the blond slipping on the shower floor and cracking his head roughly against the tiled flooring. He gasped out a strangled cry, a silent sob escaping his lips as he continued his struggle to breathe. Reaching out once more, his fingertips brushing the glass door before falling back to the tiles. His fingertips were blue, the tiles beneath them cooling rapidly as his body had done. Shivers ran through his body and he knew he was starting to hallucinate as ice began to form on from his hand to the shower door, coating the glass in seconds and freezing it shut.

Kurt's vision began to blur even more, the edges becoming black and slowly fading in and out. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew this had to be impossible The shower water was still running hot, the water droplets warm on his skin for a second before they froze over and coated him in a sheet of ice. At the same time, the other half of his brain was shutting down, his body following close behind.

His vision went black.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

A soft beep invaded the black depths of slumber as Kurt struggled to come to. He could feel the hazy fuzzy edges of being awake lingering just out of reach and the never ending darkness was beginning to set him on edge. Outside his cocoon of dark the beeping started to speed up. Muffled voices began to pierce the silence as well, cutting through his fog and drawing that edge of being alert closer and closer.

"...rt...urt... Kurt... Kurt!"

The sound of his father's voice snapped into his head and blue green eyes snapped open, heart rate picking up in fear. Where was he? What happened? Why was everything so bright? His brain struggled to process the suddenly white walls he was surrounded by.

"D... dad?" _Holy shit... is that really my voice?_ He wondered, his words coming out as a raspy croak that made his throat ache.

In seconds, Burt Hummel's face appeared, a worried expression in place as he looked his son over before relief formed. "Thank God... I was so worried you wouldn't wake up..." the elder man choked out, his eyes brimming with tears as he carefully wrapped his son into his arms.  
Kurt blinked a few times, letting his vision clear from the assault of light as he leaned into his father's embrace. For a moment he felt safe. For a moment he felt like he was ten again, crying in his fathers arms after having fallen off his bike. But just for a moment.

A shadow loomed over him and he glanced up, his heart freezing in his chest as he spotted Cassandra standing next to the bed, her daughter on her hip. She had the audacity to look worried. All Kurt wanted to do was scratch the bitch's eyes out. Forcing the thought from his head, he turned to look at his father.

"What..." he paused, clearing his throat. "What happened?" he asked.

"You don't remember?" Burt asked, frowning a bit. Kurt just shook his head. "...You slipped in the shower at Puck's and hit your head hard enough to knock yourself out..."

"I... did?"

"Yeah, fell pretty damned hard." Puck's voice sounded. Kurt blinked and looked in the direction of his friend's voice. The mohawked teen was stood nearby, looking towards his friend in clear worry. Something else flickered in his gaze as he looked Kurt over. He was hiding something from the adults. Kurt frowned a bit more, the action actually causing him mild pain. He hadn't been high... had he? No. They would have found out if they'd run blood tests. If.

"We're guessing you overheated from how hot the shower was running when Puck found you." Burt added. Kurt swallowed and nodded.

"Must have... I didn't think I put it that hot..."

"You might have knocked the handle without realizing. I know I've done it before." Puck muttered, shrugging.

From where she stood, Cassandra cleared her throat, forcing Burt's attention from his son and to her. Kurt looked to her and paled, there was a ring on her finger. An engagement ring. He felt his stomach turn uneasily.

"Burt I need to get Kayla home. And you should go let the doctor know that Kurt's awake so we can take him home as well." Cassandra spoke up. Burt paused for a moment, almost as if he was trying to process this before nodding.

"You're right... go ahead and we'll meet you at home." he stated, giving her a quick kiss before looking to Kurt. "I'll be back shortly. I'm going to go talk to the doctor." and with that, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead before leading Cassandra from the room.

It was silent a moment, the air almost suffocating as Puck and Kurt stared at the door, each offering up their own look of disgust.

"...I hate that woman." Puck finally muttered.

"You and me both..." Kurt sighed, slumping back in his bed with a soft groan. His body ached and his head was pounding. Oddly, though, his limbs felt like they were tingling, that sharp sensation of skin thawing out and regaining feeling after having frozen in the cold winter winds. "...What didn't you tell them?" Kurt finally asked, looking to Puck and waiting.

The teen hesitated a moment, looking Kurt over before sighing. "You were frozen..."

A beat.

"...What?" Kurt asked, snorting slightly. "You're joking right?" he asked, panic beginning to seep into him as he recalled his fall in the shower. There had been so much ice…

"Dude. You were like encased in ice. The entire shower was covered in it about a fuckin' inch thick... It took me an hour to get the water to start melting it. You shouldn't be alive right now. But the weird part is, the warmer the doctors got your body, the worse you responded."

The blond studied his friend, seizing him up and praying to no god that he was lying. Puck was dead serious. "Puck... what's happening to me...?" he choked out, trying not to panic once more. It wouldn't do to hyperventilate and risk freezing over the room and Puck.

"I wish I knew... but whatever it is man, it's creepy as shit."

The door to the room opened and Burt returned with a doctor, the man smiling softly as he stepped over to the bed.

"Hello, Kurt. It's good to see you awake and responsive. My name's Dr. Turner. If I could just run a few tests we should have you ready to go home in an hour or two."

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

That night was awkward. Cassandra kept idle chatter up with Burt, the man occasionally trying to get Kurt involved in the talk. Every time the teen would just brush him off. He wasn't in the mood to talk to either of them and he was still sore from the fight the previous day. Every time he looked at his dad it felt like his blood was boiling while he was simultaneously being stabbed through the heart with a jagged knife of betrayal.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

The second supper was over, he went to his basement room, collapsing onto his bed and falling asleep. He didn't even wake up when Burt came down to check on him.

The man paused beside his son's bed, a look of concern flashing across his features as his gaze softened. Kurt looked so innocent when he slept. Just like the kid he remembered his son being before the piercings and the dyed hair. This was his baby boy.

Glancing around the room, he spotted a blanket and grabbed it. Unfolding the fabric, he placed it over his son and tucked him in, placing a gentle kiss to his temple.

"...I love you, Kurt..." he whispered, running a hand through the soft locks of his son's blond hair. Turning, he shut off the light and closed the door behind him.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Sunday passed without much incident. Kurt stayed to himself and Cassandra hogged his father's time. Monday morning, Kurt actually felt comfortable that he might get a break from his home harassment. He was, however, wrong as he found himself being woken before his alarm went off. It was strange how his hazy fog of comfort was being invaded by the feeling of restriction. He frowned and shifted a bit, feeling his arms barely budging. Frown deepening, he blinked open his eyes, jolting awake as he spotted his hands bound to his head board. _Oh no... please... no…_ he whimpered, repeating the mantra in his head.

"You've been a very bad boy, Kurtie..." Cassandra's voice purred near his ear.  
Fear.

Pure unadulterated fear.

He suddenly felt sick.

"You've been getting smart with your father and causing him worry and I've had to make sure he's alright. It's been terribly annoying... You know what happens when you make things difficult for me, don't you?" she hummed, tightening the belt around his wrists before moving along the side of the bed and fingering his pajama bottoms. He could feel the cold air ghosting over his bare chest, having not bothered with a shirt before he went to bed last night.

He swallowed back the bile rising in his throat as he shifted his hips, angling them away from her reach and failing as she gripped the fabric and tugged it down, exposing him.

"Don't..." Kurt tried, his voice coming out in a broken rasp.

Cassandra paused and looked to the teen for a moment, her blue eyes studying him coldly. She hummed, going to his closet and finding a scarf. The shocking rainbow pattern of stars contrasted the black and she purred, making her way over. "Open your mouth..." she ordered. Kurt narrowed his eyes and definitely kept his mouth shut. With a snarl of irritation, she slapped him roughly across the face, Kurt gasping in shock. She took the moment to force part of the scarf into his mouth, securing it around the back of his head with a knot. "Much better..." she hummed.

Another wave of bile rose in Kurt's throat and he swallowed harshly, turning his head to look away from her. He hated this. He hated her. He hated everything about her. Part of him wanted to hate his dad for bringing her into their lives. Part of him truly did. But all in all, he hated himself. He could have stopped this. He knew he could have. There had to have been someway he could have and yet all he did was spit petty words and roll over to take it like the bitch he was. He deserved this. He deserved it all for the scum he was. For hurting his father like he did and being as selfish as he was. He was sick enough to get off on it.

A hand wrapped around him and his breath caught in his throat, a soft gagging noise escaping him before he screwed his eyes shut and tried to block out the feeling of himself getting hard. Her thumb brushed over the tip and withdrew. The rustle of clothes followed seconds before silence.

He waited, the bed creaking and dipping beside him as he felt bare legs straddle his hips. Her smooth thighs brushed against his pale skin, a warm wetness rubbing against his prick and bringing his body to further arousal. He felt even sicker than before.

Nimble fingers dipped down, coated in that slick natural lubricant, slid down to fondle him. She made quick work of slicking him up, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and holding it steady as she lowered herself onto him.

Wet warmth engulfed him and gagged, swallowing another thick ball of bile. He could feel her hips touch his for a second before lifting only to drop back down with a slick wet sound. It echoed in his head and embedded itself into his memory. Her hands pressed against his chest, her nails digging into the skin exposed to her as she began to ride him.

"You're so hard for me..." she moaned, her breathing hitched as she angled just right. "Oooo~ mama loves her little boy~!" she giggled, reaching down and slipping a slicked finger into his anus. Kurt whimpered, his hips bucking up to meet her own and she used her other hand to muffle her pleased cry.

"Such a naughty boy... Mama's going to have to punish you extra good..." she giggled, leaning down nipping harshly at a nipple. He bucked his hips again, her finger going deeper inside of him and his prick driving into her harshly. She smirked and repeated the action on the other side, Kurt responding just the same.

Her finger curled inside him, finding a bundle of nerves and rubbing. Kurt whimpered, gasping around the gag before he came, his hips bucking as each string of semen was released. Cassandra stilled as he came down from the unwanted high, pulling off and shifting to stand over him. Kurt refused to look, the shame already setting in. Her breathing continued to pick up, her breath hitching before she mewled and a spray of clear warm liquid splattered across Kurt's face and chest.

With a chuckle, she dropped down and sat her naked body on the blond's chest, roughly removing the gag and forcing him to look at her. "You look beautiful like this, faggot..." she purred, leaning down and pressing a harsh kiss to his lips. Another wave of nausea formed in Kurt's stomach as she bit down on one of the hoops in his lip, gripping it with her teeth and slowly tugging.

No... oh god no... he begged, her hand coming up to grip his jaw and hold his head down as she gave a harsh yank. In seconds, a slick hand covered Kurt's mouth as he screamed in pain, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. She looked down on him, smirking as the metal hoop gleamed between her teeth. Spitting it out, the jewelery snapped into Kurt's face, bouncing off his cheek and leaving a small cut along his cheek bone.

"Next time... I won't be so nice..." She growled, slapping him once more before she got up and dressed. The last she did was remove the belt around his hands, glaring at him. "Clean yourself up, bitch..." and with that, she made her way up the stairs, shutting the door with a soft click behind her.

Kurt wasn't entirely sure how long he lay there silently crying, letting the pain numb and dull the self hate just a bit. He didn't know what he felt while he lay there. He just shut down. What he knew was that it was the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth that finally snapped him out of it.

Shakily, he got to his feet and stumbled towards the bathroom attached to his room. His gaze fell upon the toilet and he dropped to his knees in front of it, gagging and bringing up the bile that had been lodged in his throat with a sickening splash. He continued to be sick, his body repulsed and rejecting everything he told it. He was unclean and his body was making an effort to cleanse him. Too bad it would never work.

Finally settling his stomach, Kurt flushed and stood. He staggered to the sink and rinsed his mouth, brushing his teeth a couple times over. He stopped only when he winced, his toothbrush dragging harshly along his lower lip. Spitting, he lifted his gaze to his reflection and winced. One of his lip rings was gone, the lip and skin that it had been secured in was now ripped, torn apart as the metal was pulled from his face. He was still bleeding, but he didn't care. He took the time to examine the growing bruises on his left cheek, the purples already setting in with an almost sickening black color near the middle.

He shook his head and ignored the dried fluids on his face. He turned to the shower and plugged the bottom, filling up the tub portion and waiting. He let it fill up before he turned off the water and stepped in.

_Playground school bell rings again_  
 _Rain clouds come to play again_  
 _Has no one told you she's not breathing?_  
 _Hello, I am your mind giving you someone to talk to_  
 _Hello_

He slid his body into the water, leaning back as he let the water slowly rise to reach the edge of the tub. He studied his reflection for a while, imagining what he;d look like now if his mother were still alive. If his father still loved him unconditionally like he used to. If Cassandra had never happened. He hated what he saw staring back at him. So broken. So weak. He wanted to kill it. Erase it from existence. Maybe then the world would be better off.  


Taking a steadying breath, he closed his eyes and slowly lowered himself under the water, submerging his entire body.

_If I smile and don't believe_  
 _Soon I know I'll wake from this dream_  
 _Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken_  
 _Hello I am the lie living for you so you can hide_  
 _Don't cry_

He waited, holding the air in his lungs for as long as he could. He felt his chest tightening, his lungs aching from the lack of oxygen. His trachea burned with the need for air. Air of which he was denying. Air meant living. Air meant this monster that he'd created himself into would continue to exist. He had to kill it. He had to.

Ice began to form a thin layer above him, Kurt opening his eyes and studying the unique designs in the cold layer floating just above his nose. It was beautiful. Stunning even.  


He coughed, water trying to invade his lungs and his body jerked out of the water before he could stop himself. He gasped and spluttered, coughing up water as the thin layer of ice breaking as he sat up. Water sloshed out onto the floor and mixed with the ice, slush settling at the base of the tub.

He gasped, Kurt's lungs betraying him and sucking in air. Forcing him to live.

A ragged sob left his throat as he clung to himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his naked torso.

"Mommy..." he choked out. "Mommy I need you... I need you so much..." he sobbed, his walls breaking down, stripped away to leave nothing but the broken scared little boy beneath.

_Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping_  
 _Hello, I'm still here_  
 _All that's left of yesterday_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello by Evanescence


	11. 10: The First Few Beats

**Sing For The Moment**

**Chapter the Tenth**

**The First Few Beats**

Blaine Anderson sighed, shifting uneasily in his seat as he listened to his teacher drone. He had one class period left before Glee club. They would be "auditioning" today as was mandatory. Mr. Schue hadn't stopped talking about it all Spanish. It was sad really. He'd called a special meeting on Monday just for the purpose of giving them enough time to sing as well as get to know the other students around them. He was not looking forward to this.  
The entire weekend he had been through a roller coaster of emotion. First he had spent the entire night of Friday in a foul mood. He had been oddly irritable towards anyone that approached him and had locked himself up in his room.

Saturday, however, shit hit the fan.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

_Saturday morning found Blaine sprawled on his floor, cheek pressed against the warming carpet. His room was warm, causing him to sweat slightly. This happened on occasion. Their furnace would spike and send a freak heatwave through the upper rooms of the house. It was nothing new to Blaine and he knew it would pass soon enough._

_It was after an hour of sitting there when Blaine started to get annoyed. He didn't bring anything with him, not even a book, and so his mind had nothing to occupy it while he waited for his room to cool off. He'd even opened windows but it didn't seem to be working. He was still warm and his skin felt like it was getting hotter._

_Downstairs he could hear his mother arguing with his father. His name echoing through the floor every now and then to reach his ears. He knew what they were arguing about and all it did was feed to his own anger._

_His body went rigid as he felt the familiar feeling of his hands heating up suddenly. His body temperature spiked and suddenly the carpet below his hands was on fire._

_Yelping, he jumped up and staggered back, the fire quickly dying out as he stomped on it with his bare feet. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't feeling any pain. He shifted uneasily, sitting on his bed and bringing his foot up to examine. There were no signs of burns. Not even a few red splotches from the heat. His frown deepened and he looked to his hands, studying them as well. Nothing. They were perfectly fine. Untouched._

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

He'd spent the remainder of the day not touching anything. Sunday he ended up accidentally burning one of his old Dalton uniforms when he was cleaning up. His mind had viciously reminded him that he was never going to be allowed back there and the white hot heat had flared in his hands once more. By Monday morning, he decided it was best to touch as few things as possible. He carried his bag over his shoulder with his hands at his sides, not touching his person. He set set his pencil down after he finished writing. He held his hands just slightly above his desk when he had nothing to do. He used his elbow to slide his papers forward.

It was getting ridiculous and he could feel the looks he was getting from other students. But at the moment he was just terrified of what he might accidentally catch on fire next.

He didn't know how or why. Just that it was beginning to really freak him out.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Rachel Berry wasn't sure how she'd managed to keep herself out of trouble while remaining hidden form her dads all weekend, but she had. She'd made a point of staying out of the house and leaving notes for her dads to tell them she'd left early to go shopping with a friend. It was a lie of course. After all, she had no friends. But her dads didn't know that and she wanted to keep it this way. They'd worry less.

She made a point of getting back late. Making sure to make enough noise to let them know that she was home so they wouldn't worry. Again, she wasn't sure how she managed. But she did.

The entire weekend, she was stuck in the form of her former best friend. It scared her. One, she wasn't herself. And two, wherever she went, men would leer at her. They watched her almost like she... Kurt was an object and it made her skin crawl.

She groaned and dropped her head to the desk she was sitting at. All this was giving her a headache. Closing her eyes, she ran a hand through her brown hair and memorized the soft silky feeling of it slipping through her fingers. It felt a lot different than Kurt's hair.

His hair was fine, almost soft enough to feel like rabbit fur. How he managed to keep it so soft after all the times he'd bleached his hair, Rachel didn't know. It was a lot like his skin. It was flawless and smooth, just as she'd always remembered.

Here and there she'd study the body she had been trapped in and find subtle things that hadn't changed since she and Kurt had been friends. They were small clues to the person Kurt used to be. Small things that made Rachel want to cry every time she found them.

He still groomed his eyebrows. He still had flawlessly manicured nails. Everything he wore was pristine and clean, even his piercings. He never let anything get dirty.

She did, however, notice a few new things about Kurt. Things she probably never wanted to know. She had the feeling it was more awkward for her than it would be if Kurt were to ever find out.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

_She knew she couldn't avoid it. It was Sunday night and she had done her best to avoid it, but it could not be ignored any longer. Kurt would kill her if he even knew she had gone this long without it. Hesitating, she made her way into the bathroom and gulped, eying the shower. She needed to shower._

_This was going to be awkward…_

_She hesitated before turning on the shower. Her hands- Kurt's hands glided over the jacket she was wearing and slowly slid it off her shoulders. It was odd. She'd had to dig out clothing that Kurt had left at her house on accident. Seeing Kurt, even if it was really her, wearing his old clothes was like a punch to the gut._

_Shaking her head, she slowly peeled off the shirt and let carefully set it on the toilet lid. She looked the exposed torso over for a moment, noting a silver ring in the naval. She smiled slightly. She remembered when Kurt got it. They'd still been talking and he'd been so nervous. He called her after and she could hear Puck laughing in the background._

_Her gaze continued lower and she stopped at the waist band where she spotted a bit of black peeking out. Frowning, she hesitated before dropping the pants to the floor. The sight that met her was one she knew she should have been ready for, but wasn't._

_Kurt was hung. She knew just by getting dressed despite having done her best to not look. He was also rather cleanly trimmed. Though she didn't quite grasp why this intrigued her. She shook off her mortification dragged her eyes towards the hip._

_It was a tattoo done in black with bits of purple accenting it. The image started off as a patch of Heather and Lavender. Rachel frowned at this. Solitude and distrust. But at the center of it all was a single black wolf. Rachel tilted her head a bit and studied it a bit closer. There were so many different meanings to this wolf alone, but it gave her an uneasy feeling. Tracing her finger along it for a second, she jerked her hand away as if she'd been burned, the uneasy feeling in her gut growing worse._

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Now she was just glad to be back as herself. She'd changed back sometime in her sleep. Monday morning she'd woken up and been herself again. It was a relief and it meant not having to figure out a way to get to school without her dads finding out.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Santana Lopez shifted uneasily, having kept her mouth shut since she arrived in the building. Her entire weekend had proven to be rather unnerving.

So far she had managed to break a number of glass objects by speaking at certain pitches. She'd been singing just Friday night in her room when she'd hit a particularly high note. The window in her room cracked and her mirror on her vanity shattered.

Saturday she'd managed to shatter the entire stall around their shower as well as bust out the bathroom window when she stubbed her toe on the counter. That had been a fun discussion with her parents.

Sunday had been the last straw for her.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

_"Babe... stop, I'm not in the mood..." Santana mumbled, shifting out of Rafael's touch slightly. Her shoulders brushed against her car seat, the old Charger parked in an empty parking lot. They'd been making out for the last hour and she could tell he was beginning to get impatient with her._

_"Damn it, Santana." Rafael growled, narrowing his eyes at her. "What the hell am I supposed to do then? Huh? Jerk myself off? Fuck that. Now lay back and spread your legs like a good girl." He ordered, pushing her back._

_She slapped his hands away, glaring right back at him. "No! I said I wasn't in the mood! Now take me home!"_

_"You bitch!" Rafael snarled, shifting and grabbing hold of her arms. He held her down, Santana struggling the best she could. The angle was awkward. He was physically stronger than her. She was going to loose. Taking a breath, she did the only thing she could do.  
Screamed._

_The windows shattered and Rafael yelped, lurching back and smacking his hands over his ears only to slam his head into the ceiling of the car. He doubled over and his head landed on the steering wheel, setting the horn off._

_Not wasting any time, Santana booked it out of there, launching from the car and running until she reached a house in which she knew she would be safe._

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Since then, Santana had kept her mouth shut. She refused to speak to anyone. Even in class. She didn't care how much trouble it got her into. She was sick of everything falling apart around her.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Finn Hudson was sorely beginning to question his sanity. All weekend he'd been hearing voices and now that he was in school it had gotten worse. He was still traumatized form that sex dream his mother had had of her and Taylor Lautner of all men! He'd had to shower after that in an attempt to feel clean. It didn't help.

So here he was, walking through the halls on his way to the auditorium. Auditions were being held there and he wanted to get there before the Glee club. That way no one would stare when he walked in.

_Oh my god... look at her butt! It's so big! You could bounce a quarter off dat ass!_

He frowned and picked up his pace.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

"Seriously, dude. I swear! I sneezed and I was in my fuckin' kitchen!" Puck hissed, following his blond friend into the auditorium.

"Yeah well, you could have just blacked out walking to the kitchen..." Kurt muttered, shrugging slightly. He dumped his bag in a chair and sighed. "At least you haven't turned half the shit you touch into solid ice recently."

"I'd rather have that. Means I could have some cold beer finally." The taller teen grumbled, snorting once. "And I know I didn't walk. I was lying in my bed when I sneezed and then I was sprawled eagle on the floor of the kitchen. Plus there was that weird tugging sensation I was telling you about at the base of my spine..."

"Well I don't know what to tell you..." Kurt sighed, shaking his head.

The door opened and in stepped Finn, the boy looking almost like a deer in the headlights. Kurt lifted a brow, tilting his head.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

"N-nothing..." Finn stuttered, shaking his head.

Kurt just shrugged and let it go as Blaine and Santana stumbled into the room, Santana hanging off the shorter boy and smirking while she tried to kiss him.

"Oh come on! Just one for good luck!" she cooed, keeping her voice lower than usual and pressing her chest into his back. Blaine looked physically sick and Kurt couldn't help but be amused. Puck was already laughing.

"Would you please get off of me?" Blaine asked, his voice quiet. He really didn't want to push her off. It was rude. He was taught to never be rude to a lady. In the back of his mind he knew Santana was far from a lady.

"Oh would you grow up?" Rachel snapped, shoving them both out of the way as she strutted into the room. "I have to warm up." and with that, she made her way onto the stage, playing a few notes on the piano.

"I've been cheated by you since I don't know when  
So I made up my mind, it must come to an end  
Look at me now, will I ever learn  
I don't know how, but I suddenly lose control  
There's a fire within my soul-"

She started before Kurt made his way up and pulled her from the stage, lifting her into his arms. "Hey Finn!" he called out, getting the teen's attention. "Catch!" he added, tossing her.  
With a scream, Rachel was launched into Finn's arms, the taller stumbling and landing in a chair with her in his lap. Kurt smirked.

"Sorry, Streisand, but I can't watch you butcher a song as classic as Mama Mia. Besides, we need some real music in here before we have to listen to that show choir crap. Puck, got your guitar?"

"You know it!" Puck laughed, grabbing his guitar and hooking it up. Finn hesitated, setting Rachel aside and standing.

"I can play the drums..."

"Excellent." Kurt chuckled, stepping over to the piano and playing a few notes. His smirk grew, the blond ignoring the small pain from his split lip. Tilting his head to the side a bit, he closed his eyes and sang.

"This is what I brought you this you can keep,  
This is what I brought you may forget me.  
I promise to depart just promise one thing,  
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep."

Blaine paused where he stood and looked to the stage. How did someone so crass have such an amazing voice he mused to himself, entranced by the blond teen before him. It was almost like he was the embodiment of the music. A steady beat picked up, Finn having recognized the song as well as Santana and Puck.

"This is what I brought you this you can keep,  
This is what I brought you may forget me.  
I promise you my heart just promise to sing,  
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.  
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep. "

Kurt slowly started to sway his body with the music, keeping his fingers on the piano. Santana's voice echoed softly in the background, her voice lilting with the beat in an almost ghostly manner. Puck joined in slightly as well, lightly picking the strings of his guitar.

"This is what I thought,  
I thought you need me,  
This is what I thought so think me naïve,  
I promise you a heart you'd promise to keep,  
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.  
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.”

Blaine was entranced, the music echoing in his head as he listened. It was amazing how Kurt's voice just seemed to draw him in and keep his gaze trained on the blond teen.

Kurt smirked, swaying ever so slightly as the music played over him. His eyes closed, a look of pure ecstasy taking form as his lips parted slightly in a silent moan. His skin shimmered, catching the faint sunlight streaming through the windows and reflecting light as ice started to form, covering his body in intricate designs.

" _Kiss my eyes and lay me too…_ " his eyes opened and locked directly on Blaine's, the raven's breath hitching in his throat at the raw emotion swimming in the blue depths. " _Sleep…_ "  
It fell silent for a moment before the guitar picked up once more, the beat faster and Kurt spun away from the piano and to the microphone stand. He gripped the metal and his smirk became feral, a purr sounding in his throat and through the mic as he pressed close to it.

"Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Make beauty stay if I,  
Take my life?  
Whoa-oh-ohh”

Rachel's jaw dropped as she watched. This was appalling to her. How could this even be called music? Alright, so she'd admit his voice wasn't too bad, but…

"With just a look they shook  
And heavens bowed before him.  
Simply a look can break your heart.  
The stars that pierce the sky;  
He left them all behind.  
We're left to wonder why  
He left us all behind."

Kurt dipped the mic stand, his movements easy and fluid. This was where he felt most alive. Up here the world dissolved into nothing but the music and the sound of his voice. The feeling of his body moving and the emotions he kept bottled up finally being released. He used to come in here and sing back before Cassandra. This was where he belonged and everyone watching could see it.

"Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Make beauty stay if I,  
Take my life?  
Whoa-oh-ohh  
(ohh)  
Dreams of his crash won't pass  
Oh, how they all adored him  
Beauty will last when spiraled down.  
The stars that mystify  
He left them all behind.  
And how his children cried  
He left us all behind."

Blaine's eyes followed the blond across the stage. He was mesmerizing. His higher countertenor voice was natural and pure, each note coming out strong and crisp. It was hard not to watch Kurt. He was entrancing when he performed.

"Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Make beauty stay if I,  
Take my life?  
Whoa-oh-ohh"

He paused, slowing his movements and righting the stand once more. Blue eyes danced with mischief as he swayed his hips slowly to the beat.

"What's the hook, the twist  
Within this verbose mystery?  
I would gladly bet my life upon it.  
That the ghost you love, your ray of light  
Will fizzle out without hope."

Screwing his eyes shut and drawing his lips back in a grimace as he let his voice slowly slip into a growling scream.

"We're the empty set just floating through, wrapped in skin  
Ever searching for what we were promised.  
Reaching for that golden ring we'd never let go,  
but who would ever let us put put our filthy hands upon it?"

His voice echoed through the auditorium as the beat picked up once more. Rachel sat there stunned, wincing as the blond let screamed out the last verse. His voice was going to suffer one of these days from that. She just knew it.

"Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Make beauty stay if I,  
Take my life?  
Whoa-oh-ohh  
Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Hey Miss Murder can I?  
Make beauty stay if I,  
Take my life?  
Whoa-oh-ohh!”

And just like that, it was done. The auditorium fell silent as the last notes of the song died out. Kurt stilled and smirked out at the small audience. Panting, he set the mic back on the stand and shrugged out of his jacket, the heat of the stage lights soaking into his already heated skin.

Clapping caught their attention and all six looked towards the doors to the auditorium. Stood there was a rather odd crew of six. Two Asian teens stood beside one another, the girl sporting a Gothic look and the boy wearing a Letterman's jacket. Beside them was a boy in a wheelchair, a blond girl dressed in a cheerleading uniform pushing him. Nearby, a boy sporting short blond hair studied the group with a look of confusion. Finally, front and center, stood an African American girl, a grin in place as she applauded.

"Damn white boy... you got a set of lungs on ya..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiss My Eyes/Miss Murder by AFI


End file.
